I recently read the story of Katie Zacharia, who has publicly shared that she was approximately 20 to 30 minutes away from a scheduled abortion when a Christian counselor called her biological mother and encouraged her to consider adoption instead. Katie was placed for adoption as a newborn and later met her biological mother as an adult.

Today, many people know her because of her public career, but that is not what stands out to me.

What stands out is a phone call.

One person took the time to reach out. One mother made a difficult decision. One child was given a chance at life. None of them could have known what the future would hold.

Some see coincidence. I see God’s hand at work.

Scripture tells us that God knows us even before we are born. I cannot help but think of Jeremiah 1:5: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.” If that is true, then God already knew the plans He had for her life long before anyone else did.

To me, this is a reminder that God can use ordinary people in extraordinary ways. A conversation. A phone call. A word of encouragement. We may never know how God will use our actions or how far their impact may reach.

That is why I see stories like this as a testament to God’s providence. The counselor likely had no idea what would become of that child. The mother could not see decades into the future. But God could.

Sometimes a single decision can change the course of a life; maybe the world. 

When people ask why I believe God exists, I find it difficult to give a simple answer. I believe by faith. When I think about the human body and how its many systems work together, or when I look at the order and beauty of nature, I see evidence of design rather than accident.

I have always loved a quote from the movie Miracle on 34th Street: “Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to.” I still like it, but it was speaking to another matter, not God. The fact is, common sense tells me God exists.

I know others point to suffering, disease, storms, and the death of seemingly innocent people and ask, “If there is a God, why is the world so unjust?”

The Bible never ignores that question. Job asked it. David asked it in the Psalms. Jeremiah asked it. Scripture records those questions honestly. For me, the presence of suffering does not erase the evidence of God’s presence any more than the presence of beauty explains everything about Him.

I don’t have all the answers. But I believe faith is not the absence of questions. Faith is trusting God even when some questions remain unanswered.

Common sense points me toward belief, even though I can’t answer every question.

10-4-2026

We live in a world where our attention is under constant attack. Phones buzz. Notifications stack up. TikTok, Reels, emails, messages-all of it pulls at us every minute of the day. It is easy to stay busy, but hard to stay present.

And in all that noise, faith can feel quieter than it used to. Not because God is distant, but because our lives are loud. Scripture talks about hearts that become closed or crowded, not out of rebellion, but out of distraction. A heart can be full of activity and still feel empty spiritually.

Sometimes the greatest challenge to faith is not doubt, but noise. It’s not disbelief, but busyness. It’s not rejection, but attention pulled in many directions.

But God reveals Himself, but He does not overwhelm. He shows Himself, but He does not shout. He is present, but He does not force us to see Him. That is why some see Him clearly, while others feel He is invisible. It’s distraction in many cases. 

Maybe the invitation is simply this, to make a little space for God in a world that never stops talking. How do we do that? By choosing small moments of quiet. By turning off the noise, or at least taking a break from it. By giving God a little room to speak into a life that is already full.

9.20.2026

Is there a proper way to pray? I’m curious how others see it.

For me, I begin with, “Heavenly Father, through my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I pray.” Jesus says the way to the Father is through Him, so that is how I begin a prayer.

I do so because of John 14:6, where Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me.” 

But when it comes to prayer itself, the Bible gives one example, the Lord’s Prayer, and is otherwise silent on specific instructions. Jesus offers a pattern, not a script. Scripture teaches humility, sincerity, and reverence, but not a required formula. How do you understand proper prayer in your own life? Is there one?

Twenty-five years have passed since the morning the sky exploded over New York, Washington, and a field in Pennsylvania. A generation has grown up that never saw the towers stand and never heard the first cry of “Never forget.” Some were not yet born. Some know that day only as a date on a calendar. That is why the work of memory is harder now, not easier.

On September 11, 2001, nearly three thousand people went to work, boarded a plane, or ran toward the danger and did not come home. Firefighters climbed. Passengers fought back. Ordinary people became the last line between more death and less. The country was publicly wounded. Then it came together and showed a resilience many had forgotten it still possessed. For a time, we remembered ourselves as one people.

Forgetting does not always look like denial. It can look like distance. It can look like a story told so often it loses its weight. It can look like a young person who knows the pictures but not the names. I fear this has already begun for some, and perhaps for many

“Never forget” was never a slogan for the already faithful. It was a charge to the living to tell what happened. Name the dead. Honor the courage. Refuse the idea that time can wash that morning away. Do not let the years turn that day into a faded story. Do not let time convince us the loss has grown small. Remembering the truth of that morning is not enough if we let the years soften it into just another date on the calendar