This is my sermon, my spoken‑word testimony, my life laid bare before God and anyone willing to listen. I stand here as a man who has walked through shadows with ADHD and depression whispering lies in my ear, yet I kept smiling, kept serving, kept trying to please everybody because I didn’t want anyone to hurt the way I hurt. I hid my pain so deep that even I forgot where I buried it, but the Lord never lost sight of me. I loved telling people about Him even when I couldn’t tell anyone about myself. I let people walk over me because seeing them happy felt like healing, even when it wasn’t. But God said, Remember what I brought you through. I beat cancer. I survived COVID twice. I buried friends — Midnight, Pierre — names that echo in my spirit. I lost my sister Mary, and that grief still breathes inside me. My mother Karen is my rock, my anchor, my heartbeat on this earth. I am proud of my three sisters on my father’s side, proud of the strength they carry. I love all my God‑children with a fierce, holy love. I cherish every conversation with my dad when I see him. I miss those who went before me, especially my baby sister whose passing changed my life forever. And through all of this, I stand as a man of God — flawed, hurting, rising, learning that some people are fake but God’s love is real, wide, and includes everyone, even the LGBTQ community, because God’s arms are bigger than human judgment. I thank God for Ron, thirty years of help, patience, and endurance. For Barb, always pulling us into some wild adventure. For Connie, whose presence has been a quiet blessing. For Aunt Norma — girl, I love you with everything in me. I thank the Lord for every soul He placed in my life. Grandpa steve i thank you for the jokes we share. For amy the talk we had through the years. Pastor Maria and Pastor Dave, who love me for who I am and put up with my craziness. For Jessica — oh Jessica — my best friend, my sister, my steady place. For Cassandra, sweet‑hearted and kind, loved from the bottom of my heart. And for Alisha, whose help has meant more than she knows. So hear me when I say this: I am still standing. I am still praising. I am still loving. I am still learning. I am still here because God kept me. God carried me. God covered me. And this — this breath, this testimony, this life — is my sermon. I forgive thought that hurt me. I ask those I have hurt to for give me.
