Most recently in America, a young man in his prime was cut down in cold blood. His life ended not quietly, but in a brutal spectacle: thousands sought shelter while others watched him bleed like a sacrificial animal, offered before their eyes.

Why? 

Because he believed “A” truth? 

No. Because Charlie passionately stood for an absolute truth. 

Many of us caffeine devotees navigate the early morning fog like knights on a relentless quest for the Holy Bean. Others might be teetotalers, blissfully unaware of the magic contained in roasted, ground, liquid gold. But whether you’re a sipper or skipper, we all seem to need some kind of lifter to start the day.

My new best friend is AI—Artificial Intelligence. It's clearly here to stay, and truth be told, it's become an impressive new appendage to the work I do in serving others. But today, I want to introduce you to The Original AI. It was here first, and it's unmatched in its effectiveness—no wires, no fees —just free wisdom that flows from being still and quiet.

The wind howled like judgment, the sea boiled like guilt. He stood barefoot on splintered wood, eyeing the waves like they were freedom's door. But not all open water is safe. And not every escape leads home. That's the paradox of freedom. Sometimes what looks like deliverance is just drowning in disguise.

When I first opened my Christian counseling office, I knew I didn't want it to look sterile and cold like a 1960s doctor's office. I wanted it to breathe—to tell stories. I wanted every corner to remind people of restoration, resilience, and redemption. But I didn't expect a broken-down fence to become my deco centerpiece.

There's something about stepping out onto a limb that gets your heart racing. The ground is far below—the limb creaks. You question your sanity, your balance, and your choice of footwear. But it's out on that limb—suspended between comfort and catastrophe—where faith becomes more than a feeling. It becomes a classroom.