For a long time, I thought success would fill the holes in my soul.
If I built enough, earned enough, achieved enough — surely the rest would eventually make sense.

But the truth is, the time in my life when the world said I was the most successful… was the most miserable I had ever been.

I was spiritually bankrupt.

Every day looked like winning on paper — business growing, money flowing, people noticing — but inside, it was chaos.
I was chasing status, material things, and external validation so hard that I completely lost who I was.

I didn’t know my identity in Christ.
Everything looked great on paper… but the paper was shredded in my soul.

And the worst part? My family could feel it — especially my son.

He was only four, but I’ll never forget the way he looked at me after one of my meltdowns.
I wasn’t patient. I wasn’t gentle. I was just angry, reactive, and empty.

That look broke me.
In that moment, I realized — this is not the man I want to be.

Then one day, out of nowhere, I got a message on Facebook from Walker — a guy who had led the discipleship group I joined at Eleven22 about twelve years earlier when I was first trying to get clean from drugs.

We hadn’t stayed in touch over the years, so his message completely caught me off guard.

He said something like,

That one line hit harder than anything I’d heard in years.
Because the truth was — I didn’t have one.

That message wasn’t random. It was divine.
A few days later, we met for coffee, and that conversation changed everything.
That’s where this whole journey began — not just back to God, but back to who I really am.

For the next year, I went to church every single week.
I was consistent, plugged in, worshiping, even serving.
And I honestly thought I had laid my life down for Jesus.

But looking back now — I hadn’t. Not fully.

I still had a tight grip on the things I thought I could control: money, success, my image, my plans. I wanted to follow Jesus, but I also wanted to stay in charge.

It wasn’t until this past spring that something started to shift. God began convicting me in a way I couldn’t ignore. It was subtle at first — this sense that He was asking me to give back. Not just my time or talent… but my resources.

That was the beginning of a deeper surrender.

Before this year, I had never given — not to the church, not to any ministry.
I always told myself I would once things “slowed down,” or when I “had enough.”

But this past spring, God started convicting me in a way I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t about guilt; it was about trust. He was asking me to give back — not as a transaction, but as an act of surrender.

In July, I stepped away from full-time work for the first time in my adult life.
That same month, I tithed to my church for the very first time.

And that was also the month I made more money than I ever had in my life.

It didn’t make sense on paper — but God doesn’t work in spreadsheets.
Something shifted in me after that.

In August and September, doors opened that I couldn’t explain. Opportunities came out of nowhere. Provision showed up where there shouldn’t have been any.

It was as if God was saying,

Months later, Walker told me about a young man named Byron in Uganda — a doctor he had once sponsored through Compassion International.
Byron had aged out of the program, but Walker never stopped helping him. He supported him through medical school, and now Byron runs a faith-based facility called the Gerbhard Medical Center.

When Walker shared Byron’s vision to expand the facility, I knew instantly: this was what God was preparing me for.

So far, I’ve personally funded $15,000 toward the expansion. We’ve broken ground, and by God’s grace, this is only the beginning.

The Gerbhard Medical Center will soon provide:

But this isn’t about charity.
It’s about obedience.

Because when God says go, you don’t need the whole map — you just take the first step.

I spent years running from God’s call — chasing everything the world said would make me happy.
But all it ever brought me was anxiety, emptiness, and guilt.

Now, for the first time, I’m not chasing.
I’m following.

And that’s the difference.

If you’ve been running from what God’s asking you to do — if you keep feeling that nudge but you’re scared to let go — this is your reminder:

When you finally stop running, you’ll realize He wasn’t chasing you to punish you — He was chasing you to free you.

If you feel called to be part of what God’s building through the Gerbhard Medical Center — to bring healing, hope, and faith to the people of Uganda — reply to this email or reach out directly to [email protected]

When God says go, the only right answer is yes.

🔗 Connect with me:
✖️ Twitter | 💼 LinkedIn | 🚀 Subscribe

© 2025 Alpha Before It Prints
Unsubscribe