Trying to get this Write
Trying to get this Write…
Trying to get this Right…
Bear with me…
Bare with me…
As I open up my chest, BARE my soul, take my heart out and plop it in your cell phone so that you can read everything in my heart:
I just dropped my son, Vinnie, at the hospital door for his St. Jude infusion. Now I’m sitting out here in the parking deck—engine off, heart wide open—trying to capture a moment I know may not come again next year… or in five… or in ten. Time is heavy when you can feel it pressing on your chest.
On the drive in, we talked about praise and worship. Vinnie said he wishes he enjoyed that kind of music more. I told him what every preacher says: “Praise and worship isn’t for you—it’s for God.”
He said, “I know, I know… I’m just saying it would help me more.”
And just like that, we slid into deep water—
John 6:44 water: “No man can come to Me unless the Father draws him.”
So I admitted something raw—something pastors aren’t supposed to say out loud:
Even I can’t come to Jesus unless the Father draws me.
Yes, I’m saved.
Yes, I’m filled with the Holy Ghost.
Yes, all the boxes are checked.
But relationships don’t run on checklists. And lately, I’ve felt myself drifting toward religion and away from Jesus.
This morning?
I didn’t even pray.
I meant to. I waited for the coffee to wake me up… the coffee failed, and so did I.
I thought, “I’ll pray at St. Jude.”
But then we got here, and instead of praying—I had this moment with my son.
I told Vinnie all of it. It felt like a terrible witness… but it was also the truest version of me.
Because we all need help coming to Jesus—even pastors.
All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God—even pastors.
The truth is, I’m human.
And without Him… I can do nothing (John 15:5).
Even faith isn’t something I muster—
It’s something He gives: “God has given to every man the measure of faith.” (Romans 12:3)
So here I am—trying to come to God—and some days I feel His whisper brush my ear. Other days I feel far away, not lost but distant. Not sinful, just… not as close as I long to be.
And then my son said something that hit me like a hammer on iron:
“Religion is just a guide. It’s not the path.”
“What?!”
In one sentence he took a theological concept the size of a library and shrunk it into a single nail—and drove it straight into my soul.
Christian religion is a guide.
But somewhere along the way, we start worshiping the guide instead of God.
We start checking boxes instead of building relationship.
Imagine waking up beside your wife and never speaking to her—only reviewing:
Provide? ✔
Work hard? ✔
Buy flowers? ✔
Marriage doesn’t survive on checkmarks.
Neither does your walk with God.
The truth is simple:
It’s not about the guide.
It’s about the God.
Not the boxes.
Not the duties.
Not the rituals.
The relationship.
And right there in the hospital circle drive, as Vinnie stepped out so I could go park, he said quietly, “Sometimes I feel like God just gives me things.”
I believe him.
A woman at church told me weeks ago that God was going to put something in Vinnie’s spirit for our congregation—and He has.
So I’m writing this not as a polished pastor, but as a father sitting in a concrete parking deck outside St. Jude—grateful for a son who still teaches me the things of God.
Iron sharpens iron, and yes—a child shall lead them.
He’s not a child anymore… but the wisdom that comes out of his mouth is nothing short of God-given.
Thank you, Vinnie.
Once again, God used you to remind me where the true path lies.
May the Lord Jesus Christ bless you and keep you in His perfect hands. Amen.