"The Journey to Nowhere: And Why We Can’t Ignore It Anymore"

 It’s a hard truth to face: the church of tomorrow is starting to look… empty. Many young people are walking away. Some never come. Others are watching from a distance, unsure if the church has anything real to offer them.

We see the signs—empty seats, fewer volunteers, silence where there used to be singing. It’s easy to blame culture, technology, or “this generation,” but the real question is: What will we do about it?

Because the future of the church isn’t just about Sunday services—it’s about souls. It’s about our kids, our neighbors, our communities. If we stay quiet now, the faith we love may not be handed down at all.

So what needs to change?

We need to be real. This generation doesn’t want perfect—they want honest. They want a church that talks about real struggles, real healing, and a real Jesus. Not just routines, but relationships. Not just religion, but love.

We need to make room. Room for questions. Room for mistakes. Room for young leaders to rise and bring fresh fire. If we don’t hand them the keys, we can’t expect them to stick around.

And above all, we need to show them why the church matters. Not just with sermons, but with our lives. Do we live like Jesus matters? Do we love like His church is worth fighting for?

The church of tomorrow is being shaped today—by what we do, what we teach, and how we love. Let’s not wait for the future to disappear before we start caring.

Let’s build now. Let’s reach now. Let’s live the kind of faith that makes the next generation say, I want to be part of that.

Because the church of tomorrow still has a chance—but only if we rise up today.

We don’t need more people in pews—we need people with passion. People who aren’t just watching the decline but are doing something about it. People who will invite, disciple, lead, and love. People who will speak life instead of criticism. People who believe the church still matters, because Jesus still calls it His bride.

This “journey to nowhere” can change.
But not if we stay silent.
Not if we sit back and wait.
Not if we forget what we were called to fight for.

The church of tomorrow depends on what we do today.
So what will you do? Watch it drift away—or rise and help it live again?

Happy Mother’s Day: Motherhood Isn’t Easy, But a Mother’s Love Is Like No Other

Motherhood is one of the hardest jobs in the world.

It comes with sleepless nights, endless worries, and constant questions—Am I doing this right? Am I enough? There’s no manual, no pause button, and no guaranteed breaks. It’s messy, exhausting, and often thankless.

And yet, mothers show up. Every single day.

They wipe away tears, hold tiny hands, and carry the weight of their family’s world on their shoulders. They give even when they feel empty. They love through frustration, fatigue, and fear. Because that’s what mothers do.

A mother’s love isn’t perfect—but it’s powerful. It’s the kind of love that protects, forgives, sacrifices, and endures. It’s unconditional. It's fierce. It's patient, even when tested to the limit.

So this Mother’s Day, let’s recognize the strength it takes to be a mom. Let’s honor the quiet battles they fight and the countless ways they love—seen and unseen.

Because even when it’s hard, even when they’re tired, a mother’s love never stops.

SO - Happy Mother’s Day to every mom who keeps going, keeps giving, and keeps loving. You are amazing.

Healing Is Messy — But It’s Possible. And You’re Already on the Way

Healing isn’t neat. It’s not always peaceful. Sometimes, it feels like standing in the middle of a storm—trying to pretend you’re okay while everything inside you is falling apart.

Think of the woman who quietly removes her wedding ring after the divorce papers are signed. She smiles in front of her coworkers but goes home to silence that echoes too loud. Or the young man who loses someone he loves and goes back to work like nothing happened, because grieving openly feels too heavy. Or the teenager who walks through school halls carrying a pain no one sees, hoping that maybe today won’t feel so hard.

These aren’t rare stories. They’re everywhere—tucked behind smiles, quiet glances, and brave faces.

Healing isn’t a big moment with background music and a clear “after.” It’s made up of thousands of tiny, unseen victories: getting out of bed when it’s hard, answering one text, saying no, saying yes, making it through another day.

Some days, healing feels like progress. Other days, it feels like starting over. But every step—every breath you take in the middle of the ache—is proof that you’re still going. Still trying. Still hoping.

You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t have to pretend you’re fine. And you’re not weak because it still hurts. It just means you're healing.

Be patient with the process. Be gentle with your heart. Healing is messy—but it’s possible. And even now, especially now, you are already on the way.

"Letting Go Is Hard—So I Call Them Every Day"

Every day, I pick up the phone and call my kids. They’re all grown now—with jobs, busy schedules, and lives of their own. But no matter how old they get, they’ll always be my babies.

I don’t call to bother them. I don’t call to control their lives. I call because I miss them. I call because hearing their voices reminds me that they’re still close, even if they’re miles away.

When they were little, I knew everything about their day—what they ate for lunch, what made them cry, what made them laugh. I was their safe place. And now? I just want to know they’re okay.

Letting them go has been the hardest part of being a parent. Watching them grow up, move out, and build lives of their own fills me with pride—but also with a quiet ache. I know they have to go. I know they need to find their own way. That’s what I raised them to do. But still, there’s a part of me that wants to hold on just a little longer.

Some days, our calls last only a few minutes. Just a “Hey, Mom” or “I’m good, Dad.” But those few minutes? They mean the world to me. They tell me, “I’m still here. I still need you, even just a little.”

I’ll keep calling. Even when they’re busy. Even when they forget to call back right away. Because love doesn’t stop when your kids grow up. If anything, it grows deeper. Quietly. Fiercely.

So yes, I call them every day. Not because I’m afraid they’ll forget me—but because I want them to always remember:

I will never stop being their parent. And I will never stop loving them—loudly, softly, daily.

“When your parents call, remember—it’s not just a phone call. It’s love reaching out.”

Between A Rock and A Hard Place

A while ago, I found myself in a really tough spot. I had been feeling drained for weeks—nothing seemed to go right, and every time I tried to get things back on track, something else would go wrong. It wasn’t just one thing—it was the feeling of being stuck, like I was treading water, trying to keep my head up but slowly sinking. There was nothing dramatic happening, just a constant, heavy sense that I wasn’t measuring up—whether to my own standards or to what I thought others expected. And I wondered if God was disappointed in me, too. I kept thinking, “Why can’t I just get it together?”

But that’s the thing about struggle: we often assume it means we’re failing. We think that being overwhelmed or struggling with our emotions means we’re not enough. We start to believe that God is somehow angry or disappointed with us because we’re not living up to expectations.

The truth is, God doesn’t expect us to have it all together all the time. He doesn’t pull away when things get hard. He doesn’t turn His back when we’re wrestling with our thoughts or emotions. In fact, He’s right there, sitting with us in the middle of it. He doesn’t come to fix everything or tell us how to immediately make it better, but He’s present. He stays with us, even when we feel like we’re not where we should be.

If you’re in a hard place right now—feeling lost, frustrated, or just plain tired—remember this: you’re not alone, and you’re not a disappointment. Struggling doesn’t mean you’re broken, and it doesn’t scare God. He’s not waiting for you to be perfect; He’s sitting with you in the mess, offering His presence and understanding, no matter how you’re feeling.

The Past Is a Place to Learn From — Not Live In

For the one who keeps looking back, feeling stuck, and wondering if they’ll ever really move on…

---

We all carry pieces of our past.

Some pieces are light — memories that make us smile.

But others are heavy.

• A moment we wish we could change.

• A person we lost too soon.

• Words we wish we never said.

• A version of ourselves we’re not proud of.

And sometimes, we camp there.
Not physically — but emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

We replay old pain like it’s on a loop.
We hold on to guilt like it’s our name.
We cling to moments — or people — that God is gently asking us to let go of.

And somewhere deep down, we wonder:
“Will I ever be free from who I used to be?”

---

Then Jesus whispers something simple.
Words He said in Luke 17:32:
“Remember Lot’s wife.”

She was being rescued.
She was being led out of destruction.
But she looked back — and that look revealed a divided heart.
She didn’t want to stay, but she didn’t want to leave either.

And in that one moment, she lost the future that could’ve been hers.

---

How many times have we done the same?
Frozen in what was.
Afraid to step into what could be.

God’s heart breaks when we get stuck in the very place He’s trying to lead us out of.
Because He knows —
There is life ahead.
There is healing ahead.
There is joy, purpose, freedom ahead.

But we can’t carry yesterday if we want to walk fully into today.

---

The past is a teacher, not a home.

You are allowed to grieve it.
You are allowed to miss what was.
But don’t live there.

Learn.
Heal.
Grow.
And then — when you're ready, or even before you feel ready — take His hand and move forward.

---

You are not your worst decision.
You are not the one who got left behind.
You are not the broken version of who you used to be.

You are God’s.
And He’s not finished writing your story.

---

So let today be the day you whisper back:

“I won’t live there anymore.”
And take one brave step forward.

Strength Through The Journey

Life is full of challenges. Some days are easy and full of joy, and others feel heavy and hard. But as Christians, we know that we don’t have to face the journey alone. God gives us the strength we need to keep going, even when we feel like giving up.

In Isaiah 40:31, it says, "But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." God promises that when we trust in Him, He will lift us up and give us what we need to endure.

Strength doesn’t always look like standing tall. Sometimes, it looks like falling to your knees, whispering a broken prayer through tears, and still believing that God hears you. It’s trusting that even when your heart is shattered, He is holding every broken piece.

Maybe today you feel like you’re barely hanging on. Maybe no one else sees the battle you're fighting inside. But God sees. God knows. And He is not disappointed in you — He is fighting for you.

Through every part of the journey — the good days and the hard ones — God is shaping you, teaching you, and loving you. His strength is enough for every fear, every heartbreak, and every silent cry in the middle of the night.

If you're feeling weak today, it’s okay. You don’t have to be strong enough. Let God be strong for you. He’s with you, holding you, and He will never let you go.