There have been times I’ve said to people, “I’m waiting on God,” when truthfully, He was waiting on me. Waiting for me to obey what He’s already told me to do. Waiting for me to trust Him enough to take the next step. Waiting for me to
(Based on Step 10: We continued to take daily personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.) I never thought a tea bag could preach—but God used one to show me something real. You can’t tell much about a tea bag just sitting there on the
There’s something about Psalm 51 that never lets me go. Many a morning, it’s my “go to” to get my mind renewed and my heart right—with God and people. David’s cry—“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love”—becomes my cry. His
There’s no way to explain the magnitude of the change I’ve experienced in my life without humbly and gratefully pointing to the power of God. I used to think the only way out of my mess was to fix myself. I tried to clean up, be better, act
Unity doesn’t just happen—it develops through sacrifice. I’ve learned that for our fellowship to thrive, I must be willing to lay down some of my own ambitions and preferences—not because they’re bad, but because the goal of unity is bigger than the mission of me.
For years, I thought I was only hurting myself. But the truth is, addiction—or any area of life that’s out of control—doesn’t keep its damage contained. It leaks into everything. My family didn’t just witness my self-destruction. They lived in it. They carried the confusion,
A Recovery Pastor’s Reflection on Isaiah 43:24 You have not bought any fragrant calamus for me, or lavished on me the fat of your sacrifices. But you have burdened me with your sins and wearied me with your offenses. (Isaiah 43:24 NLT) Some nights after POLR meetings,
Based on POLR Step 7: We humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings. Today’s Step 7 Focus: Shortcomings are spiritual gaps where God’s strength is waiting to be revealed. I’ve spent a lot of my life focused on what I wasn’t. Not strong enough. Not spiritual
I used to carry bitterness like an armor I thought protected me. I didn’t realize it was actually harboring a burden that weighed me down and kept me stuck. Anger was often the expression of my wounds—it felt easier to hold a grudge than to let God in.
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