The Prayer of an Unknown Confederate Soldier

A meditation on unanswered prayers, and the blessings they became

Sometimes the greatest answers come disguised as silence—or as surrender.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was give life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for—but got everything I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all people, most richly blessed.

When Truth Becomes Too Loud to Silence

A reflection on Acts 4:18–20

When truth grips the heart, silence can no longer contain it.

“Then they called them in again and commanded them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John replied, ‘Which is right in God’s eyes: to listen to you, or to Him? You be the judges! As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.’” — Acts 4:18–20

They tried to silence them. The same city that once shouted “Hosanna!” had shouted “Crucify Him!” not long before. Now, that same city whispered another word—“Hush.”

But Peter and John couldn’t hush. They had seen too much. Heard too much. Been changed too deeply.

When truth burns that close to your heart, silence feels like betrayal.

From Ai to AI

From Ai to AI: When Human Wisdom Forgets God

A reflection on Joshua 7–8 and the age of Artificial Intelligence

Joshua looking over the ruins of Ai under a dawn sky.

“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.” — Zechariah 4:6

There is a story in the book of Joshua that few remember, but it speaks volumes to our generation. After the miraculous fall of Jericho, Israel faced a smaller city—Ai. Confident and proud, they thought, “We can take this one ourselves.” They didn’t pray. They didn’t ask. They simply went. And they lost.

It wasn’t Ai’s strength that defeated them. It was Israel’s pride. Hidden sin in one man’s tent had silenced the favor of God over an entire nation. A small city became unconquerable because the people forgot where their strength came from.

When human wisdom forgets divine guidance, even the smallest obstacle becomes impossible.

Today, our world faces another “Ai”—but this one is spelled with capital letters: AI. Artificial Intelligence. It promises progress, power, and perfection. Yet beneath its brilliance lies the same temptation Israel faced—the illusion that we can win our battles without God.

From Desert to Living Water — God’s Heart in Jeremiah 14

A reflection on spiritual drought and God’s weeping heart in Jeremiah 14

When the heart becomes a desert, God still longs to pour out living water.

Have you ever been to the desert of Nevada or Arizona? I used to live in Colorado. In the southwest corner of that beautiful state lies a place called Four Corners, where Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona meet. Not far from there is a breathtaking place called Great Sand Dunes National Park.

Colorado is stunning — mountain ranges stretch across the west, forests breathe with life, rivers carve through valleys. But when you reach the Great Sand Dunes, it feels like you’ve stepped into another world. It’s dry, arid, endless. Miles and miles of sand. No trees. No shade. The air feels still, heavy. Everything looks thirsty.

That was Judah in the days of Jeremiah. Not the land — the heart of the people.