I need to ask you something I don’t like asking.

A man has been sending my posts to his adult son for months. No response. Silence. The kind that makes a father check his phone and put it back down.

This morning his son texted him.

“Happy Resurrection day dad. I got baptized this morning.”

“I couldn’t keep my feet or butt down in the water, as if He was lifting me in real time.”

That message broke me open today.

I’m in a cave right now. David was in one too. Saul outside. His own people questioning him. Wondering if any of it mattered.

It mattered. He just couldn’t see it yet.

I need prayer. The floor kind. Not the emoji kind.

And if this work has ever met you at the right time, if you’ve ever forwarded a post to someone who needed it like that father did, I need you to do one of two things today.

Become a paid subscriber. That’s what keeps this going. Not sponsors. Not ads. You.

Or if you can’t do monthly, a one-time gift goes further than you think.

Give a One-Time Gift

A kid came out of the water this morning because a father kept sending the words.

I’m still sending them.

Help me keep the lights on so I can.