Long before I ever watched those little hands rise in worship, I felt those little feet move. While I was pregnant with my son, Gabryel River, named after the messenger angel Gabriel, I happened upon K-LOVE while flipping through radio stations in my car. I began noticing how active he became when Christian music played. I noticed it at church, too, and even when I quietly sang "Jesus Loves Me" or "Amazing Grace" to myself. I didn't know then what those moments would eventually mean to me. Four years later, I do. River is autistic and has sensory processing differences. The everyday world can easily overwhelm him with its noise and movement, and there are times I wonder how much of a particular moment he understands or how he is processing it all. But when River is praising God, I never have to wonder. K-LOVE has been his favorite station since he was a baby. When worship music begins, something shifts. He sings. He becomes completely engaged. And sometimes, without anyone prompting him, River simply lifts both little arms straight toward heaven. Those moments stop me every single time. What moves me even more is discovering that I am not the only one who sees it. Complete strangers who know nothing about River's autism and have had no prior interaction with us have approached me simply to say that something about my son touched their spirit. River doesn't know he is affecting anyone. He isn't performing or trying to inspire a crowd. He just knows how to praise. Motherhood has taught me that understanding my child often means paying attention to… Read More
How Everyday People Live Out Their Christian Faith
Illustrating how men and women display their love for Jesus in their day-to-day lives.
Little things that may have an eternal impact. Might these stories motivate you to use your talents?
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One day, a young man approached our pastor, lonely and seeking connection. He wanted to start a young adult group and learn more about following Christ. A few days later, my pastor asked if I would lead it. I hesitated at first. Between my job, managing our small homestead, singing in the choir every Sunday, and serving as the parish hall manager, my plate was already full. But I also knew why he asked. Holding multiple roles at my parish gave me a front-row seat to the quiet hunger young people have for true, faith-filled community. I prayed over the decision for several days, asking God for clarity and direction. That Sunday, as I stood in the choir loft and lifted my voice in worship with the congregation, I felt a deep, overwhelming sense of peace and the strength to say yes. Getting started took effort. We posted announcements online, printed flyers, and prayed for God to send whoever needed to be there. Our very first meeting in the hall had only two people. But within a month, something remarkable happened. A group of young adults preparing to be baptized at Easter began showing up every two weeks. Listening to them share the difficult, personal journeys that brought them to Christ blew me away. Their deep hunger for faith re-ignited my own. A few weeks later, we gathered in the hall to sing sacred music together. My aunt, who doesn’t share our faith, happened to be visiting that week and joined right in, singing along with us. In that room, surrounded by new believers,… Read More
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Every morning felt like a race I was already losing. At thirty-six, with a three-year-old tugging at my jeans and a baby on my hip, my days were a blur of spilled milk, endless laundry, and trying to make too little money stretch too far. But the hardest part wasn't the exhaustion. It was opening the mailbox. One afternoon, I sat at the kitchen counter staring at an unpaid electricity bill and a bank balance that wouldn't cover next week's groceries. Nearby, my toddler was crying over spilled juice while the baby wailed in my arms. I looked at that red-stamped envelope, and something inside me broke. I felt like a failure—as a mother, a provider, and a person. I leaned against the counter, pulled my cold coffee toward me, and closed my eyes. Trying to hide my tears from the kids, I held the bill in my hand and whispered, "Jesus, I can't stretch this money anymore, and I can't stretch myself any further. Please meet me here." Nothing around me changed. The bill was still there. The bank account was still nearly empty. My children were still crying. But something inside me changed. In the middle of that noisy, cluttered kitchen, a deep peace settled over me. It wasn't money suddenly appearing on the table. It wasn't every problem disappearing. It was the realization that I wasn't carrying everything alone. Jesus wasn't measuring my worth by my bank balance or asking me to have a perfect life. He was meeting me exactly where I was—in the mess, at that kitchen counter, on a day when I felt completely… Read More
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My name is Leon Purley, aka “Leon the Jokester,” a blind comedian in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I grew up in Moreno Valley, California, home of money and pollution. I was raised in a Christian household by my mom. One of my biggest hobbies as a kid was playing basketball and writing funny stories. My mother kept me with a pen and notepad at all times. She saw something special in me and knew someday I would write many books. I attended Rainbow Ridge elementary school and always had a lot of friends. I met a kid in my neighborhood who was cool at first, then later on started offering me temptations to get in trouble. He exposed me to “inappropriate films” not suitable for kids or adults. At 11, my young mind had seen “unclean” things that followed me for multiple years. I wanted to be free from this level of bondage, but didn’t understand how to be delivered. In 2004, I packed up my bags and moved out of my mother’s house to attend college in Tulsa, Oklahoma to study journalism. College was a struggle for me, but my mother’s prayers got me through every semester. School was a big challenge for me. Learning complex concepts never made sense to me. God got me through, so I could graduate from Oral Roberts University. During this time, I felt like God was pulling on me to go into ministry, but like Jonah in the Bible, I continued to run from my calling. On April 20th, 2009, God spoke to me and said, “This is your last warning. It’s… Read More
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I first found Max outside my workplace. He was injured, with deep burns that had damaged his nervous system. His eyes reflected fear and pain; yet somehow, he trusted me. I felt a mix of shock and sadness; I had never seen such vulnerability in such a small being. The first days were the hardest. Cleaning his wounds and watching him suffer gave me a tangible understanding of the suffering God feels when we are in pain. Despite everything, Max clung to me, slowly showing signs of trust and hope. Day by day, with constant care and love, his recovery became a quiet reminder that faith and patience can heal even the deepest wounds. What made this experience even more transformative was realizing that God was speaking to me through Max. My spirit had been dulled at that time, but seeing a defenseless creature survive and fully trust in the one helping him awakened my heart. I learned that just as Max held on to me, I must hold on to God during my own trials. I clearly remember our first eye contact; his gaze silently said, “I need your kindness.” That moment of connection became a turning point in my life. Max lived six more years, fully happy, and his passing was a painful, yet profound lesson. I learned to notice life’s small details, and to see God in them: breathing, walking, watching the flowers and clouds. His resilience taught me that trusting God is essential, even when facing suffering or uncertainty. Max not only survived; he taught me how to live with… Read More
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A series of wrong choices and behaviors led me to criminal charges and prison time at a minimum-security work camp in my state. But rather than revisit all that in detail, I would rather share my story about what the Lord has done in my life since that hard season. Since I was released from prison, God has led and guided in ways I could have never even imagined! When I was first released, the Lord gave me a good job at a factory and even a promotion before 90 days. Then I began a second job: cooking at a homeless shelter part-time. I enjoyed that so much because the Lord has given me such a heart passion for cooking and baking. The Jesus Community Center is owned by a group of ladies who know the Word more deeply than anyone I had ever met! They helped motivate my heart to want to know the Lord more through His Word. After a few months, God started convicting me about my job and using my giftings with cooking and baking, urging me to use them for His glory. I felt Him leading me to start my own business. I chose to yield to Him, and that "yes" to Him was the gateway through which He has brought an abundance of provision into my life. I gave my notice at my good and stable factory job to start my own candy-making business. At the time, I was living in a halfway house owned by the Jesus Center, and they graciously allowed me to use their kitchen to start my business. Not long after, a… Read More






