As a minister, there are things that are difficult to hear and things difficult to say. The words below come from a grateful and gracious heart. However, they are challenging and might be disliked by some.
Maybe these words resonate with you. Maybe, just maybe, you need to say these words.
They are my thoughts. Just mine. This is not a letter from the congregation, or any congregation; it is just some thoughts in letter form.
A Letter to Those We Miss
To those who once walked beside us in worship and fellowship:
We want you to know that you are missed. Not just your presence in a pew, but you—your voice, your encouragement, your place in the family of God. We remember the days when your faith was strong and your commitment was steady. Those memories are still precious to us.
But we also need to speak honestly.
Over time, it has become clear that many who once claimed to know Jesus no longer desire to walk with Him. The words “I’ll be there tomorrow” have become empty promises—filler words that never lead to a changed life.
We have watched people we love drift, not because they don’t know the truth, but because they no longer want to follow it.
We have reached out. We have prayed. We have encouraged. We have called, texted, visited, and waited. Yet, the response has been silence—distance—being “ghosted” by those who once called the congregation home.
We say this with humility; we cannot help someone who does not want to be helped. Even Jesus let people walk away, and when He sent His disciples out, He told them that if a town refused to receive the message, they were to shake the dust off their feet and move on.
There comes a time when Christians must do the same.
Not out of anger. Not out of pride. But out of obedience and spiritual health. Constant rejection eventually becomes discouragement, and discouragement can drain the very people who are trying to do good.
Still, hear this clearly: “You are loved. You are wanted. You are invited back.”
If you ever choose to return to Jesus, we will rejoice. If you ever decide to come home, we will welcome you with open arms. But until that day, we must continue the work God has given us, focusing on those who are hungry for spiritual growth and ready to walk in the light.
We pray for you. We hope for you. Now, we release you to God’s care.
And if the day comes when your heart turns back toward Him, we will be here—ready to walk with you again.
You are being prayed for today.
There comes a point in every believer’s journey when the call to discernment becomes just as important as the call to compassion. Fellowship is a gift, but it is also a stewardship, and not every relationship carries the same spiritual weight. Scripture paints a clear picture that while we are called to love all, we are not called to invest equally in all. Some believers are ready to grow, some are drifting, and some have settled into a posture of resistance. Understanding the difference is not judgmental; it is wise. It protects the encourager from discouragement and ensures that our time and energy are spent where God is already at work.
There are those in the church who are spiritually weak, not because they are rebellious, but because they are still learning how to walk. They want to grow, even if they stumble often. Their hearts are open, their spirits are teachable, and their desire is sincere. They may lack discipline or confidence, but they respond to encouragement with effort, even if imperfectly. These are the believers Paul had in mind when he spoke of the “weak in faith.” They are not obstacles to ministry; they are opportunities. When you invest in the weak, you see fruit. You see movement. You see hunger. And even when progress is slow, it is real. Encouragement strengthens them, and your presence becomes a catalyst for their growth.
Then there are the wandering. These are not the spiritually immature; they are the spiritually distracted. They know the truth, they’ve been taught the truth, and they even agree with the truth — but they drift from it. Their lives are marked by inconsistency rather than rebellion. They appreciate encouragement, but they don’t always act on it. They may show brief moments of renewed commitment, only to slide back into old patterns. They often say, “I know, I know,” because they do know. They simply haven’t decided to reorder their lives around what they know. With wanderers, your role is to gently call them back, to remind them of who they are, and to offer accountability without enabling their drift. They can return, and many do, but only when they choose to stop wandering.
The most difficult group, however, are the willfully stagnant — those who know exactly what they should do but have no intention of doing it. They are not weak, and they are not wandering. They are settled. They have heard the truth repeatedly, but they resist it. They want comfort without conviction, sympathy without transformation, and attention without obedience. They dismiss encouragement, argue with Scripture, and often blame others for their lack of growth. These are the people Paul warned the church about when he spoke of idle and disruptive believers. They are not spiritually stuck because they cannot move; they are stuck because they refuse to move. And when someone continually rejects encouragement, they eventually become a discouragement to the encourager. Not because the encourager lacks patience, but because constant rejection drains the soul.
Even Jesus did not invest equally in everyone. He loved all, but He poured Himself into the willing. He walked away from Nazareth’s unbelief. He did not chase the rich young ruler. He told His disciples to shake the dust off their feet when a town refused to listen. Jesus understood something we often forget: you cannot disciple someone who refuses to be discipled. You can pray for them, you can be kind to them, and you can keep the door open — but you cannot carry what they refuse to pick up.
This is why discernment matters. The weak need support. The wandering need direction. The willfully stagnant need boundaries. When you treat all three the same, you burn out. When you discern the difference, you protect your calling, your emotional health, and your spiritual vitality. You begin to invest where God is already stirring hearts, not where people are resisting Him.
There is a quiet freedom that comes when you finally say, “I can encourage you, teach you, pray for you, and walk with you — but I cannot choose for you.” That sentence is not a withdrawal of love; it is a recognition of reality. Growth requires willingness, and willingness is the one thing no one can give another person. When someone continually rejects encouragement, they are not rejecting you; they are rejecting the invitation to grow. And when that happens, the wisest and most faithful thing you can do is step back, pray, and redirect your energy toward those who are ready to move.
Fellowship is not just about being together. It is about moving together. And the people who move with you will shape the direction of your life far more than the people who simply stand near you.
Just some thoughts,
In a world overflowing with noise, opinion, and reaction, the words of Colossians 4:2–6 offer a quiet but powerful call to intentional speech. Paul’s exhortation to the church is not merely about what to say—it’s about how to live, how to listen, and how to speak in a way that reflects the grace of Christ. For Christians navigating daily interactions with outsiders, this passage becomes a blueprint for wise, gracious, and purposeful communication.
Paul begins with prayer. “Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.” Before we speak to others, we speak to God. Prayer is not a formality—it is the foundation. It shapes our tone, our posture, and our discernment. A prayerful heart is a watchful heart, alert to divine opportunities and grounded in gratitude. Paul himself asks for prayer so that he may speak clearly and boldly. If the apostle needed prayer to communicate well, how much more do we?
From prayer, Paul moves to conduct: “Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time.” Outsiders are watching. They may not understand our theology, but they understand our tone. Wisdom is credibility in motion. It’s not just about avoiding foolish arguments—it’s about living in a way that gives weight to our words. Every interaction becomes a stewardship moment. We don’t force spiritual conversations, but we don’t waste open doors either. Time is a gift, and every conversation is a seed—some plant, some water, some harvest. God uses all three.
Then Paul turns to speech itself: “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” This is where the Greek text adds richness. The word for speech, logos, implies more than words—it includes reasoning, tone, and message. To speak with grace (en chariti) is to speak with kindness, favor, and winsomeness. It’s not flattery—it’s Christlike kindness. Salted speech (halati ērtumenos) is pure, preserving, and pleasing. In the ancient world, salt purified and enhanced flavor. In our speech, it means truth that is clear, compelling, and engaging.
Paul’s final phrase—”that you may know how to answer each person”—emphasizes discernment. The Greek eidenai suggests intuitive, Spirit-shaped wisdom. Apokrinesthai means to respond thoughtfully, not react emotionally. Christians are not called to give canned answers. We are called to listen well, speak wisely, and respond with grace.
In today’s world, where sarcasm and outrage dominate, Christians are called to a different tone. We speak as ambassadors, not arguers. We speak with integrity, knowing that hypocrisy undermines our message. We speak with purpose, knowing that every word can be a seed of hope.
Your words may be the first taste of Jesus someone ever experiences. Let them be gracious. Let them be wise. Let them be seasoned with salt.
Just some thoughts,
Long before the cross became a symbol of hope, it was a symbol of terror. Long before it was worn around the neck, it was feared in the streets.
Crucifixion did not begin with Jesus, nor was it invented for Him. It was a punishment shaped and sharpened by empires who understood that fear could control a population far more effectively than force. The Persians used early forms of it. The Carthaginians practiced it. The Greeks employed it. But it was Rome—the iron‑fisted empire of law, order, and intimidation—that perfected it.
Rome did not choose crucifixion because it was efficient. They chose it because it was slow, public, it humiliated the condemned, and it warned the watching world. A Roman execution was never meant to be hidden away. It was meant to be seen, remembered, and feared. The cross was Rome’s billboard, its message to every slave, rebel, and outsider: “This is what happens when you defy us.”
Crucifixion was not for everyone. In fact, it was not for most people.
Roman citizens were almost always exempt; the empire considered the method too degrading for its own. Instead, the cross was reserved for the lowest classes and the most despised offenders—slaves who resisted, rebels who rose up, violent criminals who threatened order, and anyone Rome wanted to make an example of. It was a punishment for the guilty, the dangerous, the unwanted. It was the empire’s way of saying, “You are beneath dignity, beneath mercy, beneath Rome.”
This is what makes the story of Jesus so striking. He did not die the death of a respected teacher. He did not die the death of a philosopher or a prophet. He died the death of the guilty. He died the death of the violent. He died the death of the rebel. He died the death Rome reserved for those it considered the worst of humanity. And yet, He was innocent.
Understanding the history of the cross forces us to see the weight of what Jesus carried. The cross was not a religious symbol in His day. It was not polished, carved, or decorative. It was not worn as jewelry or displayed as art. It was an instrument of shame, suffering, and slow death. When Jesus spoke of taking up a cross, His listeners did not think of a necklace. They thought of a death march.
This is why the statement matters: Jesus did not wear a cross on His neck. He wore it on His back. He carried the instrument of His own execution through the streets of a city that rejected Him. He stepped into the place of the guilty, though He was innocent. He accepted the punishment reserved for the worst, though He was the best. He took on the death sentence that belonged to others, and He did it willingly.
Before we ever reach Golgotha, before we ever see the nails or the sign above His head, we must understand the world that shaped the cross. Only then do we begin to grasp the depth of what Jesus endured. Only then do we see that the cross was not an ornament—it was obedience. It was not a symbol—it was a sentence. And the One who carried it did so not because He deserved it, but because we did.
Just some thoughts,
A Season of Acceleration
Warning—yes, a good kind of warning.
Over the next eight months, I’m stepping up in every area of my calling.
I’ll be increasing my efforts in local ministry and in my personal ministry through Preacher’s Pen, while also expanding the reach of 4031 Coaching and Gratitude Media Group. Every part of this is driven by one mission: “to help others create better days today for better lives tomorrow.”
This isn’t a new desire. It’s something that has been growing in me for years. For years, I have carried a deep desire to reach people, encourage them, and help them move toward something better. That desire is rooted in a simple belief: every person needs hope, every person needs purpose, and every person needs to know they were created for more.
Why I Do What I Do
I entered ministry because I believe every person needs to know Jesus, discover their purpose, and find hope again. We were created by a God who gives calling, ability, and meaning. None of us are here by accident.
When we connect with our Creator, we begin to understand who we are and why we are here. We begin to see that even in hard seasons, our lives still matter. Even in uncertainty, there is direction. Even in pain, there is still hope for tomorrow.
That conviction is what led me to build 4031 Coaching, rooted in Isaiah 40:31.
From that verse, I see four stages of life—Wait, Walk, Run, and Soar.
I see a framework that has shaped my thinking about growth and life: Wait, Walk, Run, Soar.
- Wait reminds us to trust God and rest in His presence.
- Walk teaches us to take faithful steps forward.
- Run calls us to move with courage and conviction.
- Soar points us toward the strength and freedom God gives.
Each stage matters. Each stage has purpose. And in every stage, God is present.
When we wait on Him, He strengthens us.
When we walk with Him, He guides us.
When we run toward His calling, He empowers us.
And when we soar, He carries us higher than we imagined.
I believe God wants us near Him. When we wait on Him, He renews us, steadies us, and carries us through what we cannot handle alone.
Building Tools That Lift Others Up
Alongside ministry and coaching, Gratitude Media Group exists to help small congregations and Christian businesses grow through websites, marketing, and creative design. It’s another way to serve, support, and strengthen the Kingdom.
As all these efforts grow, I plan to release hundreds of resources—articles, videos, graphics, devotionals, coaching tools, and more. There are many ways to reach people, and I want to use every one of them.
Why Create Income Outside of Ministry?
Some have asked why I don’t simply keep everything under the umbrella of ministry. The answer is that while ministry will always be part of who I am, I also want to build income through coaching, entrepreneurship, and service-based work outside of ministry.
The truth is—I could. But I see a bigger picture.
Why does that matter so much to me?
By creating income outside of ministry, I free up the financial support I currently receive from congregations so it can be redirected to areas that matter deeply to God:
- Caring for widows
- Supporting orphans
- Helping the elderly
- Meeting the needs of the struggling and overlooked
This isn’t about stepping away from ministry.
It’s about expanding ministry.
It’s about building something sustainable so the church can do what the church is called to do.
My heart is to see more support given to those who are often overlooked.
A Bigger Dream: Caring for Those Who Have Served
For years, a deep desire has been growing in me: “To create a nonprofit that provides housing and care for aging ministers and their wives—those who have poured out their lives for the church and often find themselves with little support in their later years.”
Imagine a small, one-level apartment community where:
- Ministers and their spouses can live with dignity
- Costs are covered or reduced
- The elderly in the church are cared for
- Integrity is practiced by caring for those who cared for us
That dream runs deep.
A Place of Rest for Ministers
I also have a passion for preachers—especially those serving in small congregations, working tirelessly with little support. I dream of creating a place where ministers and their families can come for a short sabbatical:
- A week or two of rest
- A place to breathe
- Encouragement for their souls
- Support for their families
- A retreat where they can be served instead of serving
One day, I’d love to see a conference center built for this purpose—workshops, support groups, shared wisdom, and a community of ministers lifting one another up.
These dreams will take resources.
That’s where 4031 Coaching, Gratitude Media Group, and speaking opportunities come in.
They’re not just projects—they’re pathways to something bigger than me.
Why I Am Pressing Forward
I know visions like these require resources, time, and teamwork. That is part of why I am pressing harder into local ministry, personal ministry through Preacher’s Pen, 4031 Coaching, Gratitude Media Group, and speaking opportunities. I want these efforts to serve something greater than myself.
Maybe you do not need my services personally, but perhaps you know someone who needs encouragement, direction, hope, or support. My prayer is that what I share this year will not stop with one person, but will reach many others through those willing to share, support, and pray.This year, I want to share enough that you have something worth sharing with others.
I need a team—people willing to share, encourage, pray, and help spread the message of hope and purpose.
Life Hasn’t Been Easy—But God Has Been Faithful
here is so much in this world that can weigh us down. But there is also still light. There is still goodness. There is still a reason to keep going.
I’m 51 years into this journey. I’ve seen the good, the great, the bad, the ugly, and the downright painful. I’ve been knocked down, run over, and dragged through the mud. But every time, without fail, the Son shines after the storm.
There is always light ahead.
There is always hope for tomorrow.
My purpose is not to draw attention to myself, but to point people to the Almighty—the One who is faithful, just, kind, and loving.
I don’t have all the answers.
But I know the One who does.
The Next 51 Years
If God allows, the next half of my life will be marked by momentum, purpose, and forward motion. I’ll want to quit at times. I’ll get tired. But He is greater, and this is about Him.
I’ve messed up. I’ve sinned. I’ve disappointed God and others. I haven’t always done what I should. But I’m learning. And now, the lessons of these 51 years are coming together.
There is hope.
There is purpose.
There is life.
Let’s Move Forward Together
No matter where you have been, no matter what you are carrying, and no matter how uncertain tomorrow may feel, your life still matters. Your story is not over. There is still good ahead.
Let us keep going. Let us keep serving. Let us keep believing.
I’m stepping into this next season with faith, courage, and expectation.
And I’d love for you to walk with me.
Let’s lift others up.
Let’s build something meaningful.
Let’s create better days today for better lives tomorrow.
Let’s do this.
From Convenience to Conviction: A Call for the Church to Move Today
For generations, faith has shaped families, communities, and entire cultures. But somewhere along the way, something subtle happened: religion became convenient. Not necessarily evil. Not intentionally shallow. Just… easy. And convenience, while comfortable, rarely produces conviction.
When Faith Becomes Convenient
Convenient religion shows up quietly. It doesn’t demand much, and it rarely disrupts our routines. It lets us feel spiritual without requiring spiritual formation.
Here are a few ways convenience has crept in:
- Convenient attendance: We gather when it fits the schedule, not because we hunger for God (Hebrews 10:24–25).
- Convenient discipleship: We like verses that comfort us but avoid the ones that confront us (2 Timothy 4:3).
- Convenient service: We help when it’s easy, but step back when it costs time, energy, or comfort (Luke 10:31–32).
- Convenient convictions: We stand for truth until truth becomes unpopular (Galatians 1:10).
Convenience is subtle because it feels harmless. But over time, it produces a faith that is soft, shallow, and easily shaken.
The Call Back to Conviction
Conviction is different. Conviction is costly. Conviction is steady. Conviction is rooted in something deeper than preference—it’s rooted in truth.
Scripture consistently calls God’s people to a faith built on conviction:
- Daniel prayed even when it meant the lions’ den (Daniel 6:10).
- Peter and John spoke boldly even when commanded to be silent (Acts 4:18–20).
- The early church gathered, gave, served, and sacrificed because they were “devoted” (Acts 2:42–47).
- Jesus Himself set His face toward the cross with unwavering resolve (Luke 9:51).
Conviction doesn’t ask, “Is this easy?”
Conviction asks, “Is this faithful?”
What Conviction Looks Like Today
Conviction in the modern church might look like:
- Worship that is a priority, not an option.
- Bible reading that shapes our decisions, not just our emotions.
- Service that stretches us, not just fits our schedule.
- Generosity that reflects trust, not leftover giving.
- Holiness that stands firm, even when culture shifts.
- Love that is sacrificial, not selective.
Conviction is not louder—it’s deeper. It’s not aggressive—it’s anchored. It’s not about being stubborn—it’s about being surrendered.
Why This Matters
Jesus warned about a faith that looks alive but is spiritually weak (Revelation 3:1–2). Paul urged believers to be “steadfast, immovable” (1 Corinthians 15:58). James reminded us that faith without works is dead (James 2:17).
Convenience produces spectators.
Conviction produces disciples.
And the world doesn’t need more spectators.
A Challenge for Today
Maybe the question for the church today is simple: Are we living by convenience or conviction?
Convenience asks for comfort.
Conviction asks for commitment.
Convenience fits God into life.
Conviction builds life around God.
Convenience fades.
Conviction endures.
May we be a people who choose the narrow road, the deeper faith, the costly obedience, and the unshakable conviction that Christ is worth everything.
Just some thoughts,
