April 26, 2026
The Keys of Life
On music, waiting, and the season God has you in right now.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."
— Ecclesiastes 3:1
There is a certain kind of restlessness that happens when a part of your soul — a gift God placed in you — has been sitting quiet for too long. For me, that's always been music.
I've been missing the keys lately.
People who know me know I love the guitar, but if I'm being honest about who I am at the core, I'm a drummer and a keyboardist. There's something about rhythm and structure that feels less like playing music and more like coming home. The guitar is a companion. The keys are a conversation.
Finding the Right Fit
Solomon wrote that there is a time for everything — and I think that includes the instruments we play, the tools we use, and the seasons we find ourselves in. A full drum kit, even an electric one, is more than my current chapter can reasonably hold. But a 66-key Bluetooth keyboard connecting straight to my iPad and GarageBand? That's the right instrument for this particular season. Ready when the Spirit moves, stowed away when the work is done.
Pete Seeger heard Ecclesiastes 3 and turned it into a song. The Byrds took it to number one. Thousands of people sang Scripture without even realizing it — because truth has a way of finding its melody whether we plan it or not. I think about that when I consider how God works in our own lives the same way. He doesn't always give you the full studio. Sometimes He gives you exactly what fits the room you're in — and that's usually more than enough.
The Harmony of Faith
I called this post "The Keys of Life" because I keep coming back to the image of a life as an instrument in the Creator's hands. He knows every register. The high notes — those bright, joyful seasons that feel like a song you can't get out of your head. And the deep bass notes — the heavy, slow seasons that don't feel like music at all while you're living them, but somehow give the whole composition its weight and meaning.
There is a time for the high notes. There is a time for the bass. Solomon knew it. The Byrds sang it. And somewhere in the waiting, God is still composing.
Final Thoughts
When those keys finally arrive, I don't know exactly what will come out. Maybe something worshipful, maybe something that just feels good to play. But the gift doesn't disappear just because it's been quiet — and this season of waiting has reminded me of that. The melody is still there. It's always been there.
It's all a conversation with the One who gave me the gift in the first place.
Turn, turn, turn.
April 18, 2026
The Watchmen in the Fog
A lesson in hidden grace — and the brothers who stood in the gap when I couldn't.
In 2008, I was walking through a valley that felt like it had no exit. Between the 16-hour marathons at the prison and a medication that was clouding my spirit, I was redlining. To the "Admin" and the spreadsheets, I was just a slot on a schedule. They didn't see the man; they only saw the uniform.
I reached a point of such deep desperation that I couldn't see anything but the darkness. I thought I was fighting that battle completely alone.
"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."
John 15:13
The Realization
I've spent a lot of time auditing those memories, and I've come to a humbling conclusion: God had already placed people in my path to protect me. It just took me longer to realize it.
Henderson and Meade were my brothers-in-arms, acting as a shield between me and the "Admin sharks" circling to tear me down. They knew I was under a doctor's care, and they chose to stand in the gap. Every time they refused to start a paper trail, they were putting their own reputations on the line. They valued my life more than the books.
The Sacrifice of a Brother
Henderson didn't want anyone to see what he was doing. He orchestrated it quietly — moving me to first shift without fanfare, without a trail, because he understood that discretion was part of the mercy. He was scared. He didn't want to lose me on his shift, but he knew that if things stayed the same, my mind was eventually going to say I'm done, and I'd walk away for good.
He had to choose between what was best for his shift and what was best for my soul. He chose my soul. He was the watchman who stayed on the wall when I was too broken to stand my own post — orchestrating a hush-hush rescue because he knew the engine was about to fly apart.
The Final Audit
This journey back to 2008 has been a powerful testimony of survival. It shows that even when we are at our lowest point — when we are redlining and looking for any way out — God's grace is already working through the people around us.
It might take years to see the full picture. It might take a re-audit of our darkest inventory to realize we weren't alone. But today, I can look back and see that the perimeter held because brothers stood in the gap. That is exactly the love John 15:13 describes — not the dramatic, witnessed sacrifice, but the quiet one. The one where a man lays down his career comfort, his shift numbers, his reputation, for a friend he refuses to give up on.
To anyone who feels like they are redlining today: God places people in your life to hold the perimeter when you can't. Sometimes, the greatest miracle isn't the storm stopping — it's the brothers who stand in the rain with you, or the ones who quietly open a door to safety when you're too exhausted to find the handle. You may not see their faces clearly until years later. But the grace is real, and the love was already there.
The case is closed. The debt is paid. The grace is real.
Stay safe on the tier. Stay focused on the Word.
You don't have to stand the watch alone.
April 12, 2026
The Greatest Homecoming
A reflection on the Artemis II crew's return — and what it means to always know your way home.
There is a unique awe in watching a capsule pierce the atmosphere and drift safely back to Earth. Yesterday, April 11th, NASA astronauts Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Canadian Space Agency astronaut Jeremy Hansen came home after a historic 10-day journey around the Moon — the first crewed lunar flyby since Apollo 17 in 1972. As we reflect on this Easter Sunday, it's hard not to look back at their journey through the lens of faith. The world got its own homecoming on the eve of the greatest homecoming story ever told.
Stewardship of the Heavens
The Bible tells us that "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands" (Psalm 19:1). These explorers aren't just scientists; they are witnesses to the vastness of creation. Their voyage reminds us that God has given us the curiosity and the capability to study His handiwork, from the smallest atom to the furthest reaches of orbit. That curiosity isn't accidental — it was placed in us by a Creator who wanted us to look up and marvel.
The Hand of Protection
Space is a beautiful but unforgiving frontier. Every successful re-entry is a testament to human ingenuity, but for the believer, it's also a moment of profound gratitude. We recognize the "still, small voice" that guides the wisdom of the engineers, the flight directors, and the ground crews who worked countless unseen hours to bring these four home safely. Their names may not make the headlines, but their faithfulness made the homecoming possible. Seeing that parachute open is a visual prayer answered. And it was fitting that Victor Glover, one of the four, said upon his return — "I wanted to thank God in public." Some things you just can't keep to yourself.
A Mirror of Our Own Journey
In a way, every astronaut's return mirrors the Christian walk. We are often reminded that we are "sojourners and pilgrims" on this earth. Just as the astronauts look down at the pale blue dot and realize how precious and fragile life is, we are reminded to cherish the home God has provided for us while looking forward to our ultimate homecoming. I think about that sometimes in the quiet moments — how much of life is spent just trying to find your footing, waiting for the right window to come home. These astronauts knew their destination the whole time. So do we.
"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast."
Psalm 139:9-10
Welcome home, explorers. We thank God for your safe return. And for the rest of us still mid-mission — still in the middle of the hard stretch, the long wait, the unexpected delay — take heart. The same hand that held them over 200,000 miles from Earth holds you right where you are. Your homecoming is coming too.
And we know it because the tomb is empty.
April 04, 2026
The Promise of the Empty Tomb
A reflection on the day that changed everything — and what it still means for us today.
Easter is not simply a date on the calendar or a turn of the season. It is the cornerstone of the Christian faith. Everything we believe, everything we hope for, rests on this single, world-changing truth: Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.
We walk through the weight of Good Friday — the cross, the suffering, the silence of the tomb. We sit in the uncertainty of Saturday, that quiet space where it feels like the world has won and hope has been buried. But Sunday changes everything.
Death could not hold Him. The grave could not keep Him. And because He lives, we live also.
The victory of Sunday
"He is not here; he has risen, just as he said."
Matthew 28:6
From the valley of dry bones to the empty tomb
The power we celebrate today didn't begin at the garden tomb — it was signaled centuries before. We see the shadow of this day in the Old Testament, in the vision given to the prophet Ezekiel. Standing in a valley filled with dry, scattered, bleached bones, a place of total desolation, the question was asked: "Can these bones live?"
When the Word of God was spoken, those bones began to rattle. They came together, were clothed in new life, and stood up as a living army. What God showed Ezekiel in a vision, He made a physical, historical reality on the third day in Jerusalem.
The evidence of the empty grave
This is not mythology or a metaphor for "feeling better." If you travel the world today, you can visit the burial places of the great figures of history — kings, philosophers, and the founders of every other major religion. Their stories ended where they were buried.
But you will not find the bones of Jesus. The stone was rolled away not so He could get out, but so we could see in — and see that death had lost its grip. If the authorities could have produced a body, the message of the Gospel would have died in the cradle. But they couldn't.
"If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins."
1 Corinthians 15:17
But He was raised. And that changes everything about who we are, how we live, and where we are going.
Redeemed and made new
Easter is the fulfillment of every promise God made from the beginning. The serpent was crushed. The curse was broken. The veil was torn in two. What sin stole in the Garden, Christ restored at the cross and confirmed at the empty tomb.
For the believer, this is not a once-a-year celebration — it is a daily reality. We were dead in our trespasses, and He made us alive together with Christ. We are not merely "improved" versions of our old selves; we are new creations.
"The old has gone, the new is here."
2 Corinthians 5:17
Life from death: evidence in the everyday
Look around at the world waking up this spring morning — the budding trees, the returning light — and let it preach to you. Creation itself echoes the truth of Easter. God is in the business of bringing life out of death, beauty out of ashes, and hope out of what seemed hopeless.
But the greatest evidence isn't found in the trees; it's found in transformed lives. The strength to keep going when things are hard. The ability to forgive when we've been wronged. The peace that stays steady even when the world is chaotic. He has done it in history. He has done it at Calvary. And He will do it in your life, if you let Him.
A day for gratitude and worship
As you gather with family and friends today, let the joy of the resurrection be the center of it all. Let the children hear the story — the real story — of why this day matters above all others.
If you find yourself standing at a point of need today — weighed down by regret, broken by loss, or simply worn out from the road — know that the risen Christ meets you right there. He is not a distant Savior trapped in a history book. He is alive, and He is near.
"Because I live, you also will live."
John 14:19
Happy Easter. He is risen — and that is enough for every single thing you are facing today.
He is risen indeed.