Month: May 2026

What happens when someone misrepresents who they truly are?

Many years ago, a physician contacted my laboratory and expressed interest in using me as his consulting dermatopathologist. He introduced himself as a Mohs surgeon—a dermatologic surgeon specially trained to evaluate tissue during skin cancer surgery.

For the first few months, everything seemed routine. But as I reviewed more of his cases, I became increasingly puzzled. Some of his diagnoses differed dramatically from what I was seeing on the slides he submitted. The confusion deepened when I received a phone call from another Mohs surgeon who practiced nearby. His voice carried a sense of urgency.

“Did you know he isn’t a Mohs surgeon?” he asked.

I was stunned.

The surgeon went on to explain that this physician was not even a board-certified dermatologist. He had purchased another physician’s practice and was advertising himself as both a dermatologist and a Mohs surgeon.

To be clear, this was not a matter of specialty pride. Throughout my career, I worked with excellent family practitioners and internists who performed skin biopsies and treated dermatologic conditions very competently. The issue was not what he was doing. The issue was who he claimed to be. He was a board-certified physician—but in emergency medicine, not dermatology.

That incident has always reminded me of a strange and sobering story from the Book of Acts:

Then some of the itinerant Jewish exorcists undertook to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits, saying, “I adjure you by the Jesus whom Paul proclaims.” Seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva were doing this. But the evil spirit answered them, “Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?” And the man in whom was the evil spirit leaped on them, mastered all of them and overpowered them, so that they fled out of that house naked and wounded.
Acts 19:13–16 (ESV)

It is one of the most humorous—and unsettling—encounters in Scripture. The sons of Sceva wanted the authority associated with Jesus, but they did not belong to Him. They were attempting to borrow a name without having a relationship.

The evil spirit’s response cut straight to the heart of the matter: “Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?”

That question reaches far beyond exorcism. It reaches into our own lives. Who are we when the titles are removed? Who are we when no one is watching? Who are we when our reputation, accomplishments, credentials, and social standing are stripped away? It is possible to look like a Christian, talk like a Christian, attend church, quote Scripture, and still never truly know Christ.

The sons of Sceva knew about Jesus. They did not know Jesus. Christianity is not borrowed authority. It is not religious performance. It is not attaching ourselves to someone else’s faith. It is a personal relationship with the living Christ.

One day each of us will stand before God. On that day, our resumes, titles, and accomplishments will mean very little. The question will not be whether we knew about Jesus. The question will be whether we knew Him.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #whoareyou #Acts19:13-16

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“After we dated a few months, I found a checklist I made after I was divorced.”

I was speaking to a friend who was recounting how she decided that her current husband was the right one.

“Let me guess,” I smiled. “He checked off all of your boxes?”

She laughed. “Oh yes. I knew he was the right one!”

Her first marriage had ended in divorce after only a year. Determined not to repeat the same mistake, she made a checklist of the qualities she wanted in a future husband. She was convinced that careful planning and wise choices would protect her from another heartbreak.

Who could blame her?

When we are wounded, we naturally look for ways to avoid being wounded again. We promise ourselves that next time we will be wiser, more careful, more discerning. We look for warning signs we missed the first time. We create rules, safeguards, and sometimes even checklists. If we can just make better choices, perhaps we can spare ourselves future pain.

I would like to tell you this story had a happy ending. Unfortunately, within a few years of their wedding, they separated and later divorced. I remember feeling saddened when I heard the news. Not simply because another marriage had failed, but because I knew what that checklist represented. It was more than a list of desirable qualities. It was a sincere attempt to make sense of past pain. It was an effort to regain some measure of control over an uncertain future.

Yet life is not a checklist. Neither are people. The qualities we place on our lists are often things we can see—education, appearance, personality, success, interests, values, or accomplishments. Yet the most important things about a person are often invisible.

When the prophet Samuel was sent to anoint the next king of Israel, he was impressed by what he saw. God reminded him:

For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.
1 Samuel 16:7 (ESV)

The older I get, the more I realize how little I truly know about another human being. I can observe actions. I can listen to words. I can make judgments and assumptions. But only God sees the heart. Perhaps that is why the most important question is not whether someone checks all of our boxes. The most important question is whether we are seeking the will of the One who sees what we cannot.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #1Samuel16:7#checklist

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“The Bible doesn’t mention this so it must mean God allows it.”

I heard a religious commentator make that argument recently while discussing abortion, nuclear war, climate change, and a handful of other modern controversies. He kept returning to the same point: the Bible never directly addresses these issues.

And on the surface, he was correct. Scripture does not mention nuclear weapons. It does not mention artificial intelligence. It does not mention carbon emissions, social media, fentanyl, or genetic engineering either. But the longer he spoke, the more uneasy I became. Not because I disagreed with every conclusion he reached. Honestly, some of the issues themselves are complicated. Serious Christians can struggle through difficult questions and still arrive at different political or practical conclusions. That was not what bothered me. What bothered me was the logic. As though silence automatically meant approval. As though anything not specifically prohibited must somehow fall safely into God’s blessing.

I have noticed that people often approach Scripture that way when they want breathing room for something they already believe, already desire, or already intend to defend. If we are honest, most of us have probably done it. Not just politically. Personally. We look for loopholes. Technicalities. Exceptions. Enough ambiguity to quiet our conscience for a while.

The human heart is remarkably skilled at self-justification once it becomes emotionally attached to something. Jesus saw this constantly with the Pharisees. They knew the Scriptures well enough to debate details endlessly, yet somehow missed the heart of God standing directly in front of them. They could argue law while neglecting mercy. Precision while neglecting humility.

That instinct did not disappear in the first century. I see it in modern Christianity too. Sometimes in myself. There are moments when I do not really want correction from God. I want permission from Him. But Scripture was never meant to function merely as a catalog of approved and forbidden behaviors. It reveals the character of God Himself — His holiness, justice, compassion, truthfulness, patience, and hatred of evil.

A person can technically avoid violating an explicit command while still drifting very far from the heart of God. That drift usually happens slowly. One rationalization at a time. One compromise at a time. One carefully worded justification at a time. History is full of people who used selective readings of Scripture to defend things that now seem horrifying in retrospect. Slavery. Exploitation. Racism. Greed. Cruelty wrapped in religious language. Most of them probably believed they were being faithful. That is the frightening part.

Isaiah wrote:

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!
Isaiah 5:20 (ESV)

That verse feels painfully relevant now. Not just for culture. For Christians too. Because the danger is not always open rebellion against God. Sometimes the danger is becoming skilled enough with words, arguments, and selective theology that we can baptize almost anything we already wanted to believe. The Bereans were praised because they searched the Scriptures daily to discern whether things were true. They did not simply accept persuasive religious voices at face value. Discernment requires more than intelligence. There are brilliant people who can justify nearly anything. Discernment requires humility before God. The willingness to be corrected. The willingness to admit, “I may be wrong about this.”

The older I get, the less impressed I am by people who always sound certain. And the more I respect people who seem careful when speaking on behalf of God.

The Apostle Paul wrote:

“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful.
“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things build up.
1 Corinthians 10:23 (ESV)

That is a difficult verse because it forces us beyond technical permission into wisdom.

Not:
“What can I get away with?”

But:
“What leads toward truth?”
“What reflects Christ?”
“What nourishes the soul rather than slowly hardening it?”

Those are harder questions. And probably more important ones.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #thebibledoesn’tmentionthis #Isaiah 5:20

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“Hey Big Boy!”

I opened the door and was greeted by an enthusiastic lick! A very excited dog was awaiting my return. Tail wagging, jumping up hoping I would hold and pet him—it was the perfect way to be greeted after a long day.

As I received my daily gift of affection, I remembered something that has been repeated so often, it is rarely questioned.

Dogs do not know that when you leave, you will be returning. Thus when you do return, they greet you with that mindset.

That is a lovely sentiment. However… how do they know this? How did the dog pundits arrive at this conclusion? The older I get, the more I realize how confidently people explain things they do not truly understand. Sometimes an idea simply sounds comforting or insightful, so it gets repeated enough times that eventually everyone accepts it as fact. But certainty is easy. Humility is harder.

Scripture reminds us:

The secret things belong to the Lord our God…
Deuteronomy 29:29 (ESV)

There is much about this world we do not fully understand. Human behavior. The mind. The heart. Even something as simple as why a dog greets us the way it does.

Perhaps wisdom begins when we become more comfortable saying:

“I do not know.”

And perhaps faith begins when we trust the One who does.

Love and trust the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #howdotheyknowthis #dogs #deuteronomy29:29

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The television was blaring in the background while I sat half-paying attention. Another physician scandal. Another “prominent doctor” exposed. This time it was a plastic surgeon accused of sexually molesting his patients. The report detailed accusations, lawsuits, testimony, and eventually criminal conviction. Cameras followed him as he was led away in handcuffs.

Then they showed his face. And I recognized him immediately. I knew him. Not well. But enough. I first met him when I was still an undergraduate college student working in a research laboratory. He was a first-year surgical resident doing a research elective in the same lab. At the time, I remember being impressed that someone so young was already a physician and surgeon. He carried himself with confidence and authority. To a college student, that meant something.

But even then, there was something off about him. Not one dramatic moment. Just a pattern. He cut corners. His knowledge base often seemed thinner than his confidence suggested. He projected certainty even when he clearly did not know what he was doing. There was always a kind of performance to him, as though image mattered more than substance. People noticed it. When he eventually left the program, there were even rumors he had stolen surgical instruments. At the time, it seemed more dishonest than dangerous. Arrogant. Shady. The sort of thing people excuse because someone is ambitious or talented. The kind of behavior people shrug off by saying, “That’s just his personality.”

Then life moved on. I graduated. Medical school. Residency. Career. I had not thought about him in decades. Until that night. Watching him led away in handcuffs, I kept thinking about how public ruin rarely begins publicly. Long before catastrophe comes, there are usually smaller compromises people ignore. A lie rationalized. A boundary crossed. An ego constantly fed. A conscience slowly silenced.

The terrifying part is how ordinary it can look in the beginning. Medicine gives people prestige quickly. Titles create trust. Intelligence earns admiration. But degrees cannot transform the human heart. Neither can success.

Scripture says something uncomfortable that most of us would rather avoid:

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?
Jeremiah 17:9 (ESV)

It is easy to watch stories like this and think in categories of monsters and decent people. But corruption usually grows quietly. And self-deception is one of the few diseases almost everyone believes they are immune to. Watching that broadcast did not make me feel morally superior to him. It made me think about how easily human beings learn to manage appearances while hiding what is underneath. Some people are simply exposed more publicly than others.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #iknowhim #Jeremiah17:9

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During my travels through Europe, I was fascinated by the painstaking restoration of great cathedrals, sculptures, and paintings. Entire generations of artists and craftsmen devote their lives to restoring faded ceilings, repairing fractured marble, and cleaning centuries of soot from stained glass windows. Standing before these works, I was struck by the reverence involved. Restoration is not casual work. It requires patience, humility, and a deep respect for the original artist’s intent.

But a peculiar thought occurred to me. How do the experts decide what should be restored? Brightening the colors on the facade of a cathedral is one thing most would agree upon. But what about restoring the missing arms of Venus de Milo? What about replacing the head of the Winged Victory of Samothrace? At what point does restoration become reinterpretation? At what point does the restorer stop uncovering the original masterpiece and begin creating a new one?

The thought lingered with me longer than I expected. Because the same question confronts us spiritually. We live in a culture obsessed with reinvention. We are told to redefine ourselves, reconstruct ourselves, recreate truth for ourselves. But Christianity speaks less about self-creation and more about restoration. God does not merely improve us cosmetically. He restores us according to His original design. And that can be uncomfortable.

Real restoration often begins with admitting something is broken. Cracked marble. Faded paint. Structural weakness. Sin works the same way. Most of us prefer enhancement over repentance. We want God to polish the exterior without questioning the foundation underneath.

But God is not restoring us into the image we prefer. He is restoring us into the image He intended. That is why truth matters. A careless art restoration can permanently distort a masterpiece. History is filled with examples where overconfident restorers altered paintings so badly that the original beauty was nearly lost forever. In the same way, when we attempt to reshape God’s truth to fit modern desires, we may no longer be restoring the soul—we may be remaking it in our own image.

Scripture describes salvation and sanctification not as self-expression, but as renewal.

And have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.
Colossians 3:10 (ESV)

Notice the direction of the restoration. Not toward personal autonomy, but toward the Creator Himself. The great cathedrals of Europe were not restored by asking tourists what they wanted the buildings to become. The restorers studied the original plans, materials, colors, and architecture as carefully as possible. In the same way, the Christian life does not begin by asking: “What version of myself do I want to create?” It begins by asking: “Lord, what did You originally intend me to be?”

Only then can true restoration begin.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #restoration #Colossians3:10

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Most songs are built around choruses and a bridge. Think of the classic Beatles song Yesterday. The opening choruses establish the melody—the familiar theme that anchors the song. Then comes the bridge, where the harmony, rhythm, and direction often shift before returning once again to the main melody.

Jazz musicians approach songs a little differently. The first chorus is usually a straightforward statement of the melody. But by the second chorus, many jazz musicians begin to improvise. They reshape the melody, alter the harmony, bend the rhythm, and reinterpret the song through their own experiences and emotions. The second chorus is where the music becomes personal. It is where the musician gives the song new life.

Lately, I’ve realized that life has choruses too. My first chorus was medicine—years spent as a physician and dermatopathologist in academia and private practice. There was purpose in it, discipline in it, and many lessons learned through both success and struggle.

But now, I find myself entering a second chorus. Retirement is not simply an ending. In some ways, it is an improvisation. I am taking the themes, lessons, failures, joys, and wounds of the first chorus and learning to reinterpret them differently. Music, writing, faith, reflection, and the quiet pursuit of God now occupy a larger place in my life than they once did.

Maybe that is part of growing older faithfully—not abandoning the melody God gave us, but learning how to hear it again with deeper understanding. There is a verse that has stayed with me during this season:

Sing to him a new song; play skillfully on the strings, with loud shouts.
Psalm 33:3 (ESV)

Perhaps God gives some of us a second chorus so we can finally learn how to play the song with greater honesty, grace, and trust. This reflection is also a small introduction to my new jazz channel:

Second Chorus Jazz

A place for late-night jazz improvisations, reflection, and music shaped by a lifetime of experiences.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #secondchorus #Psalms33:3

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Many years ago, I was teaching a group of pathology residents at a training program where I had been invited to serve as director of dermatopathology. Every week, I would give didactic lectures and review interesting and complex cases submitted from the previous week. For the first few weeks, I genuinely enjoyed the exchanges and looked forward to the meetings. The residents were bright, engaged, and eager to learn. Teaching has always been one of the most rewarding parts of medicine for me.

However, during one session, one of the residents asked me a question. “Doctor, why is it so difficult to get into a dermatopathology fellowship?”

It was a common question, and I gave her my usual answer. “It is competitive because the fellowship accepts applicants from both dermatology and pathology training programs. Thus, you are competing against dermatology residents as well, reducing the chances of being accepted.”

I thought that would answer her question, but she persisted. “I understand, but how difficult can it be? You got in!”

At first, I thought she was joking. A poor joke perhaps, but still a joke. So I responded with a self-deprecating remark. “Yes, well I guess they lowered the standards the year I applied.”

I looked around the room expecting laughter. There was none. No smiles. No chuckles. Just silence. That was the moment I realized she was serious. And perhaps even more painful, I realized the others likely agreed with her.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. What had started as a casual question now felt like an open challenge to whether I deserved to be standing at the front of the room at all. So I did something I never liked doing. I defended myself. I began outlining my credentials: my research, leadership positions, awards, publications, the nationally recognized dermatopathologists I had trained under, the fellowships, the years of study and work that had brought me there. Even as I spoke, part of me hated doing it. I have never enjoyed self-promotion. Yet in that moment, I felt cornered. I felt the need to justify my presence.

When I finished, she listened quietly and then simply said: “I see. Don’t know why it is so difficult.”

That sentence stayed with me for years. Not because it damaged my career. Not because it threatened my position. But because of what it revealed inside my own heart.

Driving home afterward, I remember replaying the conversation over and over in my mind. Part of me was angry. Part of me was humiliated. But deeper still was another realization: why had I become so desperate to prove myself? Why did I feel such a strong need to defend my accomplishments before people whose opinions ultimately carried so little eternal significance?

The truth is, there are moments when God allows our pride to be exposed not through failure, but through disrespect. Sometimes the wound is not that people insult us. The wound is that we discover how much we depended on being admired. That is a far more painful discovery.

A prophet is not without honor except in his own country, among his own relatives, and in his own house.
Mark 6:4 (ESV)

Even Jesus Christ experienced this kind of dismissal. The people of Nazareth looked at Him and essentially said: “Isn’t this just the carpenter?”

They saw the ordinary surface and completely missed the glory standing before them. And if the Son of God Himself was underestimated, misunderstood, and dismissed, why are we so shocked when it happens to us?

The older I get, the more I realize that many people only see outcomes, never sacrifices. They see the title. Not the years of uncertainty. They see the position. Not the loneliness. They see the accomplishment. Not the failures, rejection, exhaustion, and fear that preceded it.

But there was another lesson God was teaching me that day. My identity had become too connected to my accomplishments. Because if my peace could be shaken so deeply by one resident’s opinion, then somewhere inside me, my worth had quietly attached itself to reputation rather than Christ. That realization hurt more than her words. 

The Gospel continually calls us away from self-justification. Jesus Christ “made Himself of no reputation” (Philippians 2:7).

That verse sounds beautiful in theory. It becomes much harder when God allows it to happen to us personally.

Over time, I have come to see that not every misunderstanding needs correction. Not every insult deserves a defense. Sometimes the quietest response reveals the deepest trust in God. There are battles fought to protect truth. And there are battles fought merely to protect ego. The two are not always the same.

Perhaps that resident never intended to wound me. Perhaps she was immature. Perhaps insecure herself. I honestly do not know. Time has softened my feelings toward her. But I do know this: God used that painful encounter to expose something hidden in me. I still wanted the approval of people. I still wanted recognition. I still wanted others to confirm my value.

And Christ was gently teaching me that earthly credentials can never carry the weight of identity. Because eventually, titles fade. Awards are forgotten. Positions disappear. Reputations shift.

But being known and loved by Christ remains.

But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ…
Galatians 6:14 (ESV)

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #howdifficultcanitbe #Galatians6:14

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A non-profit is not defined by the absence of money. It is defined by the absence of owners. That thought stayed with me as I walked through the campus. The buildings stretched for blocks. Thousands of employees moved through offices, cafeterias, meeting rooms, clinics, and hallways. The name was recognizable almost anywhere in America. The logo alone carried authority. And yet it was called a non-profit.

At first, the term sounds noble. Almost pure. As though the absence of shareholders somehow removes the temptations that follow money and power. But the older I get, the more I realize the real issue is rarely the structure itself. A non-profit can still become consumed with growth. A church can become protective of reputation. A ministry can quietly revolve around influence. A hospital can lose sight of patients while chasing expansion, rankings, and market share.

Institutions drift because people drift. That includes me. It is easy to criticize corporations or systems while building smaller kingdoms of our own — careers, identities, ambitions, control, security, comfort. We attach ourselves to things that promise meaning, then slowly begin serving them without realizing it.

Jesus spoke about this directly, and He did not speak to pagan governments when He said it. He spoke to deeply religious people.

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.
Matthew 23:25 (ESV)

That verse unsettles me because the outside can look completely legitimate. Successful. Respected. Moral. Efficient. But God looks past appearances faster than we do. There are moments now when I walk through large organizations and wonder if the same thing can happen almost anywhere — hospitals, universities, businesses, churches, ministries, even families. Not sudden corruption. Just a slow shift where preservation quietly replaces purpose.

Maybe that is why Christ spoke so often about the heart. Because greed is not only about money. Sometimes it is recognition. Sometimes influence. Sometimes fear. Sometimes simply the need to stay in control. And none of those things disappear merely because an institution calls itself “non-profit.”

The Gospel reaches somewhere deeper than economics or organizational models. Jesus was never merely trying to improve systems. He came to confront the human heart itself. That includes mine. Maybe the real question is not whether something is for-profit or non-profit.

Maybe the real question is this: What is it truly serving? Or perhaps even harder: 

What am I truly serving?

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #non-profit #for-profit #Matthew23:25

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Many years ago, I kept a handwritten prayer journal. As the years passed, that journal eventually became digital, but one thing slowly changed along the way. I stopped calling it my “Prayer Journal.” Instead, I renamed it “Counting My Blessings.”

At the time, I remember thinking that if I truly believed God was sovereign, then I had to trust Him not only for the obvious blessings, but also for the painful and confusing moments that did not feel like blessings at all. That belief was tested during a severe financial crisis several years ago.

At the time, I could not see anything good in it. I questioned my decisions. I questioned whether I had somehow misunderstood God’s direction for my life despite sincerely praying for wisdom and guidance through every step. I remember wondering how God could allow something like this after so much prayer.

Could I honestly continue calling the journal Counting My Blessings when I no longer felt blessed? For a long time, I saw only loss. But years later, I began to understand something I could not see at the time. That financial collapse had quietly redirected my life in ways I never could have anticipated. Opportunities eventually opened that would never have existed had that earlier loss not occurred. Ironically, what once appeared devastating became part of the foundation for even greater future blessings.

Still, looking back now, I think the greater lesson was not financial. The greater lesson was learning that God’s sovereignty does not depend upon my ability to understand what He is doing.

Faith is easy when life makes sense. Trust begins when it does not. Sometimes God’s providence is only recognized in reverse. Perhaps that is why Scripture says:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
Romans 8:28 (ESV)

Not all things are good. But God remains good through all things. Even now, I still continue writing in Counting My Blessings. Some entries are filled with gratitude. Others are written through uncertainty, prayer, fear, or waiting. But over time, I have learned that God’s faithfulness is not measured by whether I immediately understand His plans.

It is measured by His unchanging character.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #countingmyblessings #prayerjournal #Romans8:28

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