Waiting for Daddy

The post today goes along the lines of the one I published yesterday. I’ve always had such respect for our military and those serving in law enforcement. I’ve never served in either, but my Dad did. Maybe that’s why I have such deepened sense of honor and gratitude.

I can’t imagine being a child and having a parent taken away in the line of duty. While thinking of that, I wrote Waiting for Daddy.


Waiting for Daddy

(Copyright 2014 Chris Martin)


Such tiny little hands, tiny little fingers

The softness of a newborn’s touch

Rosy cheeks, fresh scent that lingers

Two people who love her so much


He slips off into the night with a goodbye kiss

In the silence, Mom and child sit alone

She whispers a prayer, wrapped tightly in a wish

They’re already waiting for Daddy to come home


It’s her first day of school, ribbon tied in her hair

White dress and cute matching shoes

Swing sets and fun, without a worry or care

She plays as if there’s nothing to lose


Mom picks her up, a smile on her face

Her little girl already looks so grown

They sit at the table, there’s just one empty place

They’re waiting for Daddy to come home


Graduation day, it’s so hard to believe

The years have gone by way too fast

Although her future shines bright, it will be hard to leave

She clings to memories that will always last


She looks at the crowd, there’s one face missing

Her mother sits in the aisle all alone

So many stars, on which she’s been wishing

She’s still waiting for Daddy to come home


A badge and a belt, a picture with the edges well worn

All that’s left of the man she never knew

He answered the call, and on the night she was born

Lost his life while wearing the uniform of blue


Tears stream down her face as the people stand

Her mother stares at the woman all grown

They walk down the aisle, she gave herself to another man

She’s no longer waiting for Daddy to come home

Stop waiting on God

This world is a mess. There is no denying that fact.

My heart broke last night as I watched some of the rioting in Ferguson after the announcement of the grand jury’s decision.

It broke for the protesters who were burning cars, looting stores, and shooting guns. It broke for the parents of Michael Brown. It broke for Darren Wilson and his family. This incident changed all their lives forever. I’m not here to debate about whether or not the system failed, and who should or shouldn’t be blamed. I’m here to talk about us.

I see so many Christians pleading with God, wondering why He hasn’t come, asking for intervention, searching for signs of the end times. We have to stop doing that.

He has given us authority. If we are believers, His Spirit lives inside of us. If we were meant to just walk around the planet wondering when God is going to do something, then answer me this:

Why do we have the power of life and death in our tongue?

Why did God say people perish for a lack of knowledge?

Why would we reap what we sow?

Sounds to me like we’ve been given power and authority. This world is ruled by the devil. It’s his domain. We are basically living in Hell on Earth. Sin and death are all around us. We need to redeem the time and stop wondering when Christ is coming back. If we are praying for His return just for an escape from all this evil, then it’s all about us, and we’ve completely missed the entire point of the Gospel.

Jesus said to deny ourselves and follow Him. He didn’t sit around in fear, praying God would hurry up and beam Him back up into Heaven. He healed the sick. He gave hope to the hopeless. He fed the hungry. He raised the dead. He loved the unlovable. He left a legacy on this Earth that we are to follow.

Let’s quit being so Heavenly minded, that we are Earthly bummers.

Let’s be so Heavenly minded, that we are Earthly amazing, and people want what we have.

This reminds me of the line from Matthew West’s song, Do Something.

So, I shook my fist at Heaven
Said, “God, why don’t You do something?”
He said, “I did, I created you”

We were created to manifest the image of God, which is total, complete, unconditional love. And it starts with the person standing right in front of us.

Stop waiting on God, and start becoming like Him.

My love/hate relationship with October

I love Fall. It’s, hands down, my favorite of all the seasons. Football on a lazy Sunday. The crisp air that kisses your face when you step outside. Sweatshirts and jeans. The crunch of colorful leaves underneath your shoes. The steady crackling of a warm fire. S’mores under a darkened sky illuminated with brilliant stars. The intoxicating smell of pumpkin oozing out from every coffee shop within a three mile radius.

It’s the time of year when the windows can remain open almost the entire day. The steady sound of leaf blowers in the distance. The blanket of bright red and dazzling yellow that envelopes the mountains. The plume of breath that escapes your lips on the really cold mornings. Ahhhh…it’s so amazing in the Fall.

October is an incredible month, because I married the love of my life back in 1999. I was the guy who said he would never settle down and get married. Now, nearly 15 years and two kids later, I am blessed more than I could have ever dreamed.

It’s also a month marked by the everlasting stain of loss.

On October 14 2008, I lost my Dad. Hard to believe it’s been that long. I’ve changed allot during those years. I’ve grown spiritually, and many of the views and beliefs I used live by have radically shifted perspectives. For quite a while after Dad’s passing, I questioned God. I blamed God. I wondered how a God who is supposed to be love could rip my father away from us. Now I know the truth.

God didn’t take my Dad.

He received him, yes. But He did not take him.

The Bible is very clear that satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. The very same scriptures also point out that all GOOD things come from above. People will always go immediately to Job and quote “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.” Job honestly believed God was doing all those things to him, when in fact, He wasn’t at all. I don’t believe God is sitting up there playing games with our faith. It would be very hard to trust someone who says they love you, but at the same time makes you suffer. How could you ever trust someone like that?

One of satan’s biggest accomplishments is causing believers to blame God for everything. He wants us to be in a state of confusion when it comes to trusting God. He hopes we step into our secret place not with boldness, but with a divided heart. Part of it loving God, and the other part wondering why God is causing bad things to happen to us. Think about all the horrible things that have happened in your life. The stuff you blamed God for, or at the very least figured God was allowing to happen to teach you something. Wouldn’t your relationship with Him be even more incredible if you just let it go and realized there is an enemy roaming this earth trying to destroy you?

I expect many of you will not agree with my last two paragraphs, and that’s okay. I’m not here to debate and argue about these things. What you believe is entirely between you and God. As Christians, it’s our job to love people, pray for people, and speak truth when we can. We aren’t here to beat people in the head with a Bible and accuse them of having false beliefs. We weren’t created by God to fight with people. Jesus paid much too high a price for that. It’s up to the Holy Spirit to bring about conviction and repentance. We sow seeds. Sometimes we are fortunate enough to have an opportunity to water those seeds. But we may never see them bloom into fruition.

I had the great blessing and opportunity of having an amazing earthly father. He was never shown love from his own father, but that didn’t carry over to me at all. I knew without a doubt that Dad loved me. He was my friend, my golf partner, and the man I went to for advice and guidance when I was growing up. There are memories, good memories, locked away in the vault of my mind that only myself and family will ever know about. Moments that were never documented on Facebook or Twitter. Images that will never see the scrolling pages of Instagram.

Sometimes we just need to create a memory for ourselves, and not ruin it with likes, shares, and hashtags.

My Last Night

So many people are lost and hurting. The ministry we used to be a part of was full of youth who struggle with major issues on a daily basis. I’ve talked to many of them who have faced suicide at one point or another. Like everyone else on this planet, they need love. They don’t need to be judged for what they’ve done in the past. They need to know who they are in Christ. I wrote another song this morning as I sat here thinking about that.


My Last Night
Copyright 2014 Chris Martin

(verse one)

Standing at the edge of silence, time is no longer my friend
In this moment, I have to decide, no one will hurt me again
The tears stream down, I tremble in the shadow of my fear
I cried out to You, no reply, thought You said You were always here

Candlelight flickers in the darkness, cold steel pressed against my skin
A note on the table, reasons why, I can’t be hurt again
You won’t understand, might force a smile through the tears
But no one will ever know, what you did to me all these years


This is my last night
I give up the fight
I can’t take this pain anymore
Time to step through the open door

I’m so alone, I need to be strong
I’ve carried this burden for way too long
Does darkness await, or will it be light
No matter what, this is my last night

This is my last night

(verse two)

Sitting at the edge of my bed, time is my only friend
In this moment, I have to decide, I want to let you in
The tears stream down, I tremble, but not in fear
I cried out to You, the answer came, I feel You here

Candlelight flickers in the darkness, cold steel cast to the floor
A note in the trash, I have no reason to doubt You anymore
You’re the only one Who understands, I smile through the tears
Soon everyone will know, You’ve been calling to me all these years


This is my last night
I don’t have to fight
I won’t carry this pain anymore
On bended knee, I step through Your open door

I’m never alone, You make me strong
I’ve carried this burden for way too long
The darkness is gone, I now walk in the light
No matter what, this is my last night

This is my last night

Never Forget

I tried to come up with something special for this day. A story, some kind of poem, or even some new song lyrics. I just wasn’t able to pen anything fresh. I can usually tell after a few minutes of staring at the blank screen whether or not it’s going to happen. Well, it didn’t. I ended up with nothing but memories.

9/11 was one of those events where you remember every single thing about that day. Where you were. What you ate for breakfast. Possibly even what you were wearing and every single detail of each conversation you had with people. Every moment is seared into your brain. For me, it was the same way when the space shuttle Challenger exploded. I was in school when one of our teachers ran in with the devastating news.

These are events that alter history. They tear through the fabric of time and leave scars that may never heal. They create stories that our children and grandchildren will study one day in a classroom.

It was a Tuesday morning. We lived in Corvallis, OR, and I worked for Pepsi. The previous day, I had just started training to be a route driver. I climbed out of bed after having a very strange experience during the night. Around 2 AM, I awoke with a churning inside my stomach like none I have never experienced before or since. Dread washed over me in waves. All I could think to do was pray. I prayed for everyone that came to mind. My family, my friends, my co-workers. I didn’t even know what to pray. I just asked God for protection over them all.

My initial thought was that something horrible was going to happen in the small town I grew up in, Franklin NC. When I turned on the radio in my car that gloomy morning, I knew why I had been praying.

I rushed back into our apartment and flipped on the television. A scene of horror greeted me, and I sank into a chair. It was one of the most horrific events I had ever witnessed in my lifetime.

I didn’t want to be late for work, so I tore myself away from the news and headed on in. Obviously, it was the focal point of all conversation that morning. That early, most of the people I worked with weren’t exactly lively, but that day was so different. There was a sadness that clouded the Pepsi plant. You could see it in each face and hear it in every voice.

We made sure the truck was loaded and pulled out to start a day full of deliveries. We listened to the radio the entire time. We couldn’t speak when they announced the first tower was crumbling. I wanted to rush home and hold my wife and little girl when they described the second one falling.

We worked through our route in a state of numbness. I remember one stop was a local newspaper. We walked in and started toward the back where the vending machines were located. I noticed that everyone looked at us strangely. Even Sean, the guy training me, said something about it once we reached the lunchroom. While we were determining what they needed as far as product was concerned, one of the paper employees walked in. He said they were all on edge and just wanted to make sure we were truly from Pepsi.

Everywhere we went that day, people were frightened. That, and deeply moved by the grief and tragedy befalling our nation. It’s something you wish could be wiped clean from the deep shadows of our memory, but yet, it’s also something we don’t want to forget. We could never forget.

I’m not into politics at all. I’m not pro-government. I’m not anti-government. I’ve watched countless videos attempting to prove that 9/11 was an “inside” job. None of that matters to me. What does is the fact that people lost sons and daughters that day. They lost parents and cousins. Brothers and sisters. Best friends. Grandparents. Uncles. Aunts. The list goes on and on. Brave men and women rushed headlong into the smoke and debris desperately trying to find survivors. I’ve watched so many documentaries over the years, and I’m left wrecked at such loss and devastation.

It’s time such as this, I fall to my knees and thank God for the many blessings in my life. My wife. My two children. My mom. My job. It’s too easy in this life to gripe and complain about everything. The Bible actually calls complaining a sin. I make it a point each morning to wake up conversing with my Father, thanking Him for another opportunity to represent Him on this earth. Time is short, folks. We have no idea when Jesus is coming back. We have to live as if it could be at any moment. Take a few moments today to just stop, get into a quiet place, and talk with God.

Today marks 13 years since the events of 9/11/2001. It’s hard to believe. Wherever you are right now, hug someone close to you. Tell them how much you love them. Never forget that our lives are but a vapor.

Here today and gone tomorrow.

God on trial

Let’s be completely honest. When something “bad” happens in our lives, what is the first thing we do? Or better yet, in what ways do we respond?

We ask God why.

We blame God.

We get mad at God.

We might even curse God.

Trust me, I’ve been there. In October of 2008, my father passed away suddenly and very unexpectedly. At the time, it was the most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, life-altering event that I had ever endured. It just didn’t seem fair. I questioned God with things like “Why would you take such a good man, when there are murderers still here running free?” and “Why would you orchestrate such a thing in our lives that would leave us wrecked and crushed under a mountain of pain and anguish?”

In that moment, all those years ago, I didn’t know any better. I sincerely believed, as do nearly all Christians today, and non-Christians for that matter, that God actually had something to do with it.

God is the giver of life, not the taker. 

John 10:10 (Emphasis mine)

10 The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.

1 Timothy 6:13 (Emphasis mine)

13 I urge you in the sight of God who gives life to all things, and before Christ Jesus who witnessed the good confession before Pontius Pilate

Let’s look at this another way. Why would God take people away from us (essentially killing them if we want to get real about it), when we were given the authority and power to raise the dead? That seems counter productive to me. Jesus would have been going directly against His Father when He raised Lazarus from the dead. If God took Him, why would He allow Jesus to bring the guy back?

God isn’t into doing party tricks for the masses who followed Jesus around.

Another thing we try and blame God for is all the sickness in the world. Again, every time Jesus healed someone, He would have been going directly against His father. It just doesn’t add up.

Okay, here is the Great Commission from Mark 16. (Emphasis mine)

15 And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. 16 He who believes and is baptized will be saved; but he who does not believe will be condemned. 17 And these signs will follow those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues; 18 they will take up serpents; and if they drink anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”

Another passage from Matthew 10. (Emphasis mine)

But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. And as you go, preach, saying, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the deadcast out demons. Freely you have received, freely give. 

Those are the very words from Jesus Himself. They are in red letters. What part about these do we not believe? How can we change that up in any way, and create our own doctrines or belief systems?

If we aren’t locked into the truth of the Gospel, knowing that the will of God is for us to have life, not death, then when something traumatic in our life happens, we put God on trial. In the back of our minds, we keep trying to convince ourselves that God is good, that the Bible is true, but we will accuse and question Him when the storms of life hit us out of nowhere. People go through life so confused, when it’s crystal clear in the Bible. In the bold, crimson letters of Jesus.

We have been given authority over the earth. We reap what we sow. The power of life and death are in the tongue.

Satan roams the Earth seeking whom he can devour. He is the taker of life. He wants us to remain so blind to the truth of the Gospel. He takes joy in the fact that we haven’t yet realized everything he already knows. The Gospel absolutely terrifies him, and if we grasp the concrete truth of it, we will know how to crush him every day.

Every day of my life is a process of growing in the Lord, His revelations, and His word. It’s amazing the things we learn just by spending time with our Father.

The next time something “bad” happens in your life, don’t put God on trial. Instead, affirm who you are in Christ and realize that death, sin, and Hell have already been defeated.

Dropping Stones

One of my favorite stories from the entire Bible is about the woman who was caught in adultery. (John 8:1-11) The Pharisees were chomping at the bit to have her stoned. I can only imagine their frenzy as they dragged the woman to the temple courts where a certain celebrity was teaching. The Bible doesn’t say, but I wonder if they made a huge spectacle on their way to see Jesus. What were they saying to the woman as they neared the temple? Were they calling for other people to join them as they rushed to carry out what would surely be the Godly thing to do? End her life. Seal her fate. Write her off.

I can only imagine the condemnation being poured out from their self-righteous mouths, pushing her further down into the mire of her guilt and shame. Without even knowing who she was, or anything about her story, I bet others joined right in with their judgmental bashing. The Pharisees, after all, were the “holy ones” of the era. They were the religious leaders who followed God’s law without fail. They never got it wrong. No one dared argue with their wisdom and knowledge of the ancient scriptures.

What a surprise it must have been when they placed her in front of Jesus and explained the situation. Instead of immediately answering them with a command to stone her, Jesus ignores the most religious men in all the land, bends down, and begins to scribble in the dirt. There have been many views on what exactly He was writing. I tend to believe that He might have been writing out their own sins. Of course He knew them all, He’s Jesus. When the Pharisees realized what it was, they still repeated their question.

Jesus finally answers by saying that whomever has no sin can throw the first stone. There was no other option than for them to unclinch their tightened fists and drop the stones they were so eager to throw. What else could they have possibly done? I’m sure the crowd had pressed in to see what the great teacher had written. The Pharisees were busted. Here they were trying to trap Jesus, and He completely turned the tables on them.

If anyone standing there had the right to accuse the woman of sinning, it was Jesus Himself. The One with no sin. The One who led a perfect life. He chose forgiveness over her failure.

How often are we quick to judge others? Do we rush around to all of our “Christian” friends eager to bash another imperfect human because of something they’ve said or done? Do we turn our nose up at someone who is marrying a person of the same sex? Do we turn our backs on the fifteen year old pregnant girl who made a mistake? These are the people we should be running to with open arms.

Why would anyone want to follow Christ if all they receive is judgement and condemnation from those who claim to know Him?

Just as the Pharisees, who stood before Jesus thinking they were God’s gift to the unwashed masses, assumed it was their duty to judge, so do we. It’s not at all. We need to realize that just because we have Jesus, we’re not elevated onto some untouchable platform, and all the sinners are wandering around in circles below us. We are all broken. We all hurt. We all struggle. We all desire a relationship with someone who gets it.


It’s hard to open up your arms to someone in love if you’re carrying a bag of rocks.

Reflections From a Broken Mirror (repost)

At some point in our life, I believe we have all been there. Unsatisfied with how we look, act, or fit in. It’s human nature to never be happy with how we are. In some cases, that can actually be a good thing, but for now, I’m talking mainly about our appearance and how we feel about life in general. In a world where we are bombarded with millions of different looks, fads, opinions, and opportunities, it’s a miracle we even know who we are as individuals.

It’s everywhere. TV. Movies. Books. Magazines. Billboards. Newspapers. Daily, we are subjected to what the world, society, thinks we should be. What we should wear. What we should eat. What we should not eat. What is healthy. What is not healthy. The list stretches beyond eternity where no one can see an end to the madness. People are looked down upon if they don’t keep up with their neighbors. Men are degraded constantly in TV commercials. No matter where we look, sin is shown as friendly and fun.

There are lost and hurting people all around us, but sadly, most of the world turns round and round with an air of indifference. We are taught to look out for ourselves, move up the ladder of success, get the newest car, buy the largest house on the block, etc. We’re so busy chasing after the American Dream, we forget about the least of these. We forget that if we help the homeless man on the street corner, we’re helping Jesus. (Matthew 25:40) If we feed the woman standing outside McDonald’s with no money, we are feeding Jesus.

As I usually say when I publish blog posts, I am not throwing any stones. We are all broken. Your reason may be scars caused from past abuse. Maybe it’s an addiction. Or maybe we’ve been through such horrible things in our life, it’s sometimes difficult to even express in words. In my own broken mirror, the reflection I see looking back is one of heartbreak, loss, failure, hope, happiness, faith, and redemption.

In my opinion, one of the most powerful moments written about in the New Testament is the story of the woman caught in adultery. (John 8:7) The religious leaders of that time brought her before Jesus and declared that according to the Law of Moses, they should immediately stone her to death. I get chills every time I watch that scene in Passion of the Christ when Jesus draws the line in the sand and, one by one, the stones drop from their clutched fists.

None of us have the right to judge anyone else for who they are, or more importantly, for what they have or have not done.

There is only One who can repair the cracks in our mirrors. When we see broken glass, we assume it’s worthless, and toss it into the trash. When God looks at our broken lives, he sees opportunity. He sees pain that only His perfect healing can replace. He sees beauty that only His perfect love can reveal to us. He sees worth that no amount of money, clothing, popularity, or status could ever appreciate. One by one, He replaces the broken pieces with His love. When He’s finished, we can finally step in front of that mirror and realize the greatness of our God and look at ourselves through His lens to see what we look like in His eyes.

We are His children. We are His family. We are His beloved.


Chris Martin

Nothing Left

The steady fall of rain is so peaceful. Sometimes I like to walk outside and stand there, face turned up, arms outstretched. People point and look at me strangely, but I don’t care. The drops of water falling from the sky hide the tears that are continuously running down my face. I don’t have as many friends now as I used to. They are too uncomfortable whenever they are around me. I try, but at times, it’s too hard to contain my emotions. They all must think I’m crazy and have completely lost my mind.

My husband passed away less than a year ago. We were married for a long time, and the pain of that loss has nearly ended me. My heart is a mess of broken and shattered pieces. I feel as if I’m standing in the middle of an empty room. There are no doors, no windows to allow light in. It’s a darkened world of hopelessness and fear, one that I can never escape. I can hear people outside banging on the walls trying to get in, but no one can save me. I know they mean well, but I have come to a point in my life where I don’t even want them to try and help me any longer.

The only thing left to live for is my son, and he will not live to see tomorrow. Last night, I started preparing some flowers for his grave. I couldn’t finish. The thought of losing the one piece of my heart that remains intact, reduced me to a heap of uncontrollable sobs. He is such a sweet boy. A teenager in the process of becoming a man. He doesn’t deserve to die. As a parent, there is no more of a helpless feeling than being unable to take care of our children. I nursed him, I clothed him, I held him when he was hurt. Now, I will have to bury him.

No parent should ever have to outlive their own child. It just isn’t fair. He already suffered through the loss of a father who loved him almost more than life itself. He was stepping into the role of being the man of the house. From the death bed, his father made him promise to remain strong and take care of me. Now my son is on his own death bed, but he has no one to leave me with. There is nothing left for me here. I just don’t think I can take this life anymore. In a darkened sky, my son is the bright star I can always see. He has helped me through the pain and despair more than he will ever know. The moment he takes his last breath, I will be completely and utterly alone in this world.

I whisper final goodbyes as he peacefully slips away. A crowd has gathered to pay last respects. Some of the men have volunteered to carry his body outside the city gates. I want my son to be buried beside my husband. They were separated in this life. Maybe they will reunite in the next. We walk outside. The rain has stopped, and the sun shines brightly down from a crystal clear sky. As we slowly make our way through the crowd, I barely recognize the people from my home town. I feel like a complete stranger. I’m thankful so many have come to bury my son, but I wonder if they are truly here because they care, or if it’s their duty to help lay to rest one of their own.

Outside the city gates, we are greeted by a different crowd of people. They must have realized what was going on, because they all stop and allow us to pass by. Through my tears, I watch as one of the men starts to walk toward us. Those carrying my son stop as he approaches. My eyes stare at the ground. I don’t want to share my loss with complete strangers. I hear quiet conversation, and then feel the presence of someone standing directly in front of me. Reluctantly, I raise my head.

He doesn’t appear to be much older than my son, but there is a deep maturity stirring inside those eyes. He raises his hand and gently touches my cheek. I nearly collapse to my knees as sobs begin to shudder throughout my body. People from both crowds move closer to see what’s going on. I hear myself speaking. “My son. He’s all I have left. My husband is dead. I have no one.”

He lifts my face and looks directly into my eyes. It’s the first time in my life I can ever remember feeling such love and compassion coming from another human being. He smiles, and I feel as if I am the most special person in the entire world. “Don’t cry,” he whispers.

He walks over and places his hand on the wooden board where my son lies. An expectant hush falls over the crowd. My heart beats faster as each second passes by. I have no idea what is about to happen, but there is an energy in the air that sends chills down my back. The bearers slowly lower the bier to the ground. The man kneels and gently touches my son’s forehead. “Young man. I say to you, get up!”

I hold my breath. Who is this man?

A gasp ripples across the crowd as my son slowly raises his head. The tears of suffering and loss that have streamed down my cheeks now turn into tears of unimaginable joy. The man helps my son to his feet, and I rush to over to hold him. I nearly trip in my haste, but I regain my balance. I cry out my son’s name over and over.

Confusion covers my son’s face, but when he sees me running over, he smiles. “Mother?”

I nearly tackle him as I wrap him up in my arms. The crowd erupts into cheers as everyone shouts out the man’s name. “Jesus! Jesus!”

The steady fall of rain is so peaceful. Sometimes I like to walk outside and stand there, face turned up, arms outstretched. People point and look at me strangely, but I don’t care. I am praising my Lord and Savior, and thanking Him for saving my life.

This story is based on Luke 7:11-17.

Chris Martin

Homeless families need your help

Obviously, the huge issue for discussion today is the Duck Dynasty television show and how the main guy was let go from A&E. Truthfully, I’m pretty sick of reading and hearing about it. We found out today that there was a huge fire last night at an apartment complex just a mile down the road from One7. One7 still rents one unit there, and we know a lot of the families who call the complex home. Many of their kids come to One7.

Here is a link to the video about what happened.


I hope that after watching this, people will realize what’s truly important in this world. It isn’t people on a television show. It’s the people who are real, and have real needs. One7 wants to help these families get back on their feet in any way that we can.

Here is the status from our One7 Facebook page. “As we get closer to Christmas and enjoying the holidays with friends and family, please keep these precious people in your prayers. This is in a nearby apt complex we do ministry with daily. They have lost everything. If you can help us be the hands and feet to these precious people, they need literally everything. Nothing was salvageable in their apts. We are collecting everything from soaps, shampoos, diapers, blankets, clothes, gift cards for the families to go buy Christmas presents since they were lost in the fire. Anything you can give to help them see there is hope, even in their darkest hour.”

If you can help, please go to our Donate page on the One7 website and click the button to give. Any amount would be greatly appreciated. These families lost nearly everything including Christmas presents for their children. Please help us help them. If you donate, please put a note that it’s for the families who lost their apartments in the fire. Thank you so much.



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Have a blessed day.