When I was a teenager, I used to run track and field. Through high school, I competed in the 100-meter, 200-meter, and relay events. My grandfather, who was a sports reporter for a renowned newspaper, was also my coach. He trained me with discipline, patience, and excellence.

Speed was never my problem. I could accelerate quickly and run comfortably at full pace. My biggest struggle was false starts. After months of training, I was disqualified from several races because I left the starting blocks too soon. All the preparation meant nothing if I started before the right time.

At the time, I thought false starts only belonged on the track. Years later, I realized I had experienced many more of them in my spiritual life.

After my marriage, by our Lord’s grace, through my wife’s persistent prayers and the unconditional love of my in-laws, I came to know Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior at the age of twenty-five.

Yet, even after coming to Christ, my spiritual journey looked very much like my days on the track. For many years, I experienced false starts in my understanding of who Jesus Christ is and what it truly means to have a relationship with Him.

I knew Him as my Savior, but I was still learning to know Him as my Lord. Many times, I ran ahead with my own assumptions and understanding. I confused knowing about Jesus with truly knowing Him. I mistook religious activity for intimacy with Christ.

Looking back, I realized God was never in a hurry. He wasn’t looking for a fast start. He was shaping me for a faithful finish. Just as a sprinter waits for the starting gun, I had to learn to trust God’s timing, trust His process, and allow Him to reveal Himself to me instead of creating Him in my own image.

The beautiful difference between the track and the Christian life is this: on the track, a false start meant immediate disqualification. But with Christ, my false starts never disqualified me.

Every time I misunderstood Him or leaned on my own understanding, Jesus did not reject me. He patiently corrected me, extended His grace, and gave me another opportunity to know Him more deeply.

He kept giving me second chances as a father, husband, son, brother, and believer, not because I deserved them, but because that is who He is. His grace was always greater than my mistakes.

As I continued to grow, I realized something else. Jesus never intended for me to run this race alone.

Today, I’m grateful that in the Kingdom of God, within the body of Christ, false starts are not the end of the race. God uses His people to humble us, teach us, encourage us, correct us, and draw us closer to Himself.

Just as I trained alongside others in track to minimize my false starts, today God has surrounded me with faithful brothers and sisters in Christ who disciple me, pray for me, challenge me, and lovingly help me grow.

In particular, I’m deeply grateful to a dear brother in Christ who, over the past several months, has become like a spiritual father to me. Week after week, he faithfully meets with me over lunch to disciple me in every area of my life. With patience, wisdom, and love, he continually points me to Christ, helping me run this race with endurance and minimizing the false starts in my walk with the Lord.

I thank God for placing him in my life. His investment reminds me that discipleship is one of God’s greatest gifts through the body of Christ. My prayer is that, as the Lord continues to grow me, I too will one day be that kind of brother to someone else.

We don’t earn our place in this race by getting everything right. We remain in the race because Jesus has already secured our place through His finished work on the cross. His grace sustains us, His Spirit empowers us, His Word guides us, and His people strengthen us.

Looking back, I realize that my walk with Christ has not been defined by my many false starts. It has been defined by the faithfulness of my Savior, who never gave up on me, and by the grace He has shown me through His church.

If you’re discouraged by the false starts in your own walk with Christ, don’t lose heart. A false start is not the end of your race. God’s grace is still sufficient. His mercy is still new every morning.

I’m profoundly grateful to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for His mercy and grace that have kept me in the race despite all my false starts. As I continue to run alongside my brothers and sisters in Christ, my desire is to remain faithful until the very end.

My prayer is that, by His grace alone, I too will one day be able to say with the Apostle Paul:

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”— 2 Timothy 4:7

Until that day, I will keep running, not in my own strength, but by the grace of the One who never disqualified me, never gave up on me, and faithfully keeps me in the race.

That’s my 2 cents for today ... Love you all in our Lord’s Love, Amen

For the last few months, my wife’s health has not been good. Some days are better than others, but I continue to notice she is not the same person she was six months ago. Tasks that once came so naturally now require tremendous effort. Watching someone you love slowly lose strength is never easy.

As the days pass and our doctor continues to treat her and order additional tests, I find myself taking on a greater role, not because I have to, but because I have the privilege of doing so. I’ve learned that loving someone through illness isn’t about reminding them of what they can no longer do. It’s about reminding them of the gifts, beauty, and value that still shine within them. Illness may weaken the body, but it never diminishes the worth of the person.

A couple of days ago, while vacationing in Corpus Christi, I twisted my right ankle. It was painful, but with some ice and rest it began to improve.

Then yesterday, my wife broke down in tears while making lunch. Cutting onions and opening a simple jar had become painfully difficult. I hugged her and reminded her that this sickness is only for a season. I believe the Lord will heal her in His perfect time. I also reminded her that God had given me the strength to be her help during this difficult season.

To me, that is not a burden.

It is a privilege.

Later that afternoon, while cleaning our fishing icebox, I stepped into a hole in the backyard and violently twisted my left leg. Because of the impact, my first thought was that I might have broken a bone. All I could think was, “Now both of my legs are injured.”

The pain was immediate.

I dropped to my knees and cried out, “Lord... why? If I’m also not well... who is going to help my wife?”

As I knelt there, something began to settle in my heart. Within minutes, the pain had almost completely disappeared. More importantly, the Lord reminded me that I had unknowingly begun trusting in my own strength more than His. Somewhere along the way, I had started believing that I was my wife’s provider and protector.

But I never was.

Christ is.

He has simply allowed me the privilege of participating in His care for her.

How quickly we forget that we are living in a battlefield every single day.

Not a playground.

Not a vacation.

A battlefield.

The next morning my wife reminded me of the book of Job. She smiled and said, “Yesterday, Satan had his turn to test you, just as he did with Job.”

I’m not saying our trial is the same as Job’s. But one thing is true.

The enemy is the same, and the battle we fight every day is the same.

The enemy wants to distract us through pain, fear, disappointment, sickness, and exhaustion until we lose sight of Christ.

Jesus never promised an easy life. He said, “In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” *(John 16:33).*

Some battles are fought in hospital rooms. Others around a kitchen counter. Some are fought quietly in a backyard when no one else is watching.

But every battle is an invitation to discover, not how strong we are, but how faithful Christ is.

Looking back, I realized my prayer needed to change. Instead of asking, “Lord, who will help my wife if I cannot?” the better prayer became, “Lord, remind me that You have always been the One helping both of us.”

Every morning we wake up on a battlefield. The battlefield may change, but the enemy remains the same.

The good news is that we never step onto the battlefield alone. Christ is with us. Christ goes before us. Christ strengthens us. Christ fights for us.

The enemy may win a few battles, but he has already lost the war. At the cross, Jesus secured the victory forever.

So whatever battle you are facing today, don’t measure your hope by the size of your battle. Measure it by the greatness of your Savior.

My dear brother, Joel Stein, whom I deeply love and respect, once shared a message in our small group that made so much sense to me yesterday. He said,

“We are constantly in a battlefield, and we do not fight for victory. We fight from the victory that Christ has already won.”

What a powerful reminder.

He is the Victor.

And because He is the Victor, we can face every battlefield with courage, hope, and confidence, knowing that no matter how fierce today’s battle may be, the final victory belongs to Christ.

And that is my 2 Cents.

Love you all, in our Lord’s love.

Some truths don’t really make sense when you first hear them. They only begin to make sense after you’ve lived through them.

Yesterday, a dear sister who has become very close to my wife and me stopped by to let us know that she and her family would soon be moving to another state.

As she shared her story, she explained how the Lord had been orchestrating several changes in her life over the past year. Looking back, those changes now seemed to have been preparing the way for this move. As I listened, I could hear both joy and sadness in her voice—joy because she could clearly see the Lord’s hand leading her, and sadness because saying goodbye to people you love is never easy.

While we were talking, I felt the Lord gently impress something on my heart: every relationship He blesses us with is never ultimately about us—it is always about His bigger picture.

A while ago, I wrote that true fellowship has no ZIP code. I believe that even more today.

Over the past few years, several brothers and sisters we dearly love have moved as the Lord has led them. From a human perspective, every move feels like a loss. We miss their presence and encouragement. But from God’s perspective, each move is part of His greater purpose—placing His people where He desires and extending His kingdom beyond what we can see.

After she left, I thought about something a dear brother in Christ once shared with me:

“One day you’ll look back and realize that every change God allowed was His invitation for you to trust Him more and know Him more.”

At the time, I appreciated the thought—but I didn’t fully understand it.

Looking back now, I finally do.

Some of the biggest changes in my life weren’t ones I would have chosen. Plans didn’t unfold as expected. Doors closed. New paths appeared. Seasons ended. Relationships shifted.

More than once, I found myself asking, “Lord, why is this happening?”

But hindsight has a way of revealing what faith struggles to see in the moment.

Looking back now, I no longer see those changes as obstacles—I see them as invitations.

God was inviting me to trust Him instead of my plans, to find security in His presence instead of predictable circumstances, and to loosen my grip on my own timeline so I could embrace His. Most importantly, He was inviting me to know Him more.

I’ve noticed that almost every season of spiritual growth in my life began with change. I’ve never been someone who enjoys change—I like stability. Yet God has often used change to loosen my grip on what I was holding too tightly so I could hold on to Him instead.

As I look back, I see a pattern: every time I thought I was losing something important, God was making room for something greater. Sometimes that “something” wasn’t easier circumstances—it was a deeper relationship with Him.

I’ve also realized that God has been far more interested in changing me than changing my circumstances. While I was asking Him to fix what was around me, He was quietly transforming what was within me—teaching humility, patience, dependence, gratitude, and faith.

Perhaps that’s why change is one of God’s greatest instruments in a believer’s life. It reminds us that while everything around us is temporary, Christ is eternal.

Jobs change.

Plans change.

Relationships change.

Seasons change.

But Jesus never changes.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” — Hebrews 13:8

His love never changes.

His faithfulness never changes.

His promises never change.

That truth has reshaped how I view both change and goodbyes.

Instead of seeing people moving away as loss, my wife and I are learning to see it as a kingdom opportunity. God has given us family in Christ across many places. What a privilege it is to visit, worship together, and witness how He is working beyond our immediate surroundings.

The kingdom of God has never been confined by geography. In Christ, we remain one family wherever He plants us.

Today, when life unfolds differently than I expected, I’m learning to ask a different question:

“Lord, how are You inviting me to trust You more and know You more through this change?”

I’ve come to believe that every change God allows carries an invitation—not just to adjust, but to deepen our trust in Him.

Change may be the only constant in this life, but every change God allows is an invitation to trust the One who never changes and to know Him more.

And perhaps that’s the bigger picture God has been showing me all along.

That’s been my experience…

…and that’s just My 2 Cents. love you all in our lord’s love.