I grew up in a home where winter felt like an enemy that we could never quite outrun. My mom worked two jobs, and our old furnace broke so often that I learned what cold felt like in a way most kids never should. I used to lie awake at night praying, “Lord, please help us get through one more storm.” Maybe that’s why, when I became an HVAC repairman years later, I told God He could use my hands however He wanted. I didn’t have a grand ministry plan. I just remembered what it felt like to be cold, scared, and invisible.… Read More
Labor
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I’m only 17, but my grandpa used to tell me something that stuck harder than most lessons in school. He’d tap the side of his mower, look me dead in the eyes, and say, “Son, this is what Jesus would do.” He meant helping widows - especially the ones in our neighborhood who didn’t have anyone left to look after them. When he passed away last year, I didn’t know how to handle the grief. Grandpa was the kind of man whose kindness filled the whole room, I felt lost without him. One afternoon, while sitting in the garage, I saw his old mower pushed against… Read More
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My family had acquired the American dream. A large house in a golf community in North Carolina. All the toys, a motorcycle, a golf cart, and great vehicles. We had good jobs, and our kids were thriving. Then, on January 17, 2017, my husband, Gary, and I both lost our jobs within an hour of each other. That’s when we knew God was up to something. We felt a tug and knew He was asking us to become “pastors” for missionaries in Haiti, although there was one minor issue: We had never set foot in Haiti. In the spring of that year,… Read More
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After I retired, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My days felt long, and my house felt quiet in a way I wasn’t used to. Then one afternoon, a neighborhood kid knocked on my door, holding a bike with a bent wheel. “Can you fix it?” he asked. I said yes. Word got around. Soon, kids started showing up after school with bikes in worse shape than the last. Chains off, brakes shot and tires flat. I never charged them. Most of them didn’t have the money anyway. I grew up rough, no dad, and not much supervision. I remember how much it meant… Read More
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I grew up playing with my Barbie’s hair, dressing them up, imagining them at the store. My aunt had a huge influence on my love for fashion and beauty; a part of me knew I’d always wind up in this industry. Yet, I found myself away from Barbie hair, in corporate America, in a job that took way more from me than it gave. At a point of reckoning, my husband asked “What’s your dream?” I responded, “I want to do hair.” So, that’s exactly what I did. The journey of becoming a hairstylist proved difficult. It was a new world, and… Read More
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People always assume the hardest part of nursing is the medical side: the emergencies, the alarms, and the long shifts. But for me, the hardest moments are the quiet ones. The hours when the hallways are dim, families have gone home, and patients are left alone with their fear. Those are the hours when I feel Jesus asking me to show up the most. Years ago, I worked the overnight shift when a teenage boy was admitted after a severe depressive episode. He looked so fragile, curled up on his side, eyes red from crying. He wouldn’t talk to anyone. When I checked his vitals,… Read More






