You may still have prayers waiting to be answered. You may still have dreams you have not reached and areas where you need to grow. But stop for a moment and look back. There may be things you can handle today that once would have broken you. There may be decisions you can make now that once terrified you.

Premiering on Kids’ WB on Sept. 9, 1995, Freakazoid! ran for only two seasons and 24 episodes from 1995 to 1997. Yet three decades later, this wonderfully strange Steven Spielberg-presented Warner Bros. cartoon feels almost more suited to our internet-driven world than the era that created it.

That is when wisdom becomes just as important as strength. Isaiah 40:31 reminds us: “But those who wait on the LORD Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.”

The goal is not confusion. The goal is engagement. Give readers the pieces. Give them the emotional evidence. Give them the pattern. Then trust them enough to discover some of the meaning for themselves.

There is work involved in stewardship. There is practice. There is preparation. There is discipline. There is correction. There is learning. There is failure. There is consistency. There are days when you do not feel inspired but still have to show up. There are seasons when nobody is applauding, nobody is watching, and nobody seems interested in what you are building.

Every no is not negative. Some noes are sacred. Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven” (NKJV). If there is a season for everything, then wisdom requires knowing when a season has ended. What was once allowed may no longer be assigned. What was once helpful may now be distracting. What once fit your life may no longer fit your calling.

But there is no Batman without Alfred Pennyworth. There is no Batman without the man who raised a broken boy after the worst night of his life. There is no Batman without the man who turned Wayne Manor from an empty mansion into a home. There is no Batman without the man who kept the Batcave running, the secrets safe, the wounds treated, the suits repaired, the alibis ready and the family together.

Genesis 1:27 says, “So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Before anyone had an opinion about you, God had already placed His image on humanity. That means your value did not begin with applause, approval, achievement, popularity, beauty, money, status or recognition. Your value began with God.

For many children watching, especially Black children, that meant something. The Famous Jett Jackson gave them a young Black lead who could be cool, thoughtful, heroic, vulnerable, talented and complicated. He could wear the leather jacket. He could lead the mission. He could save the day. He could also go home, sit with his father, talk to his grandmother, wrestle with his choices and try to become a better young man.

Ephesians 6:12 reminds us why discernment is necessary: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” That scripture forces us to ask a difficult question: Am I fighting the real enemy—or just the person standing in front of me?

What happens when the hero is also the problem? What happens when the person trying hardest to save everyone becomes controlling? What happens when confidence turns into arrogance, protection becomes manipulation, loyalty becomes obsession, responsibility becomes domination, or fear disguises itself as wisdom? What happens when a hero becomes so convinced that they are right that they stop listening to everybody around them?

The right voice can water faith. The wrong voice can water fear. The right voice can strengthen courage. The wrong voice can deepen doubt. The right voice can help you obey God. The wrong voice can talk you into delay, compromise, resentment, confusion, or disobedience.

But God knows what He planted. Zechariah 4:10 says, “For who has despised the day of small things?” (NKJV). That question still speaks powerfully today because too many people despise the beginning. They despise the small start, the early version, the slow growth, the quiet season and the hidden work. They want fruit immediately, but God often begins with a seed.

On September 11, 2001, the world saw heroes who did not come from comic books. They came from firehouses. They came from police precincts. They came from ambulance crews. They came from office floors, airport gates, military corridors, ordinary neighborhoods, phone calls, stairwells, smoke-filled hallways and families that never knew their loved ones were living their final morning.

We also remember something else: evil struck, but evil did not get the final word. Terror came, but love rose up. Buildings fell, but courage stood tall. Smoke filled the sky, but compassion filled the streets. A nation grieved, but people still reached for one another. And through sorrow, loss and trauma, God was still near to the brokenhearted.

For a generation of kids who grew up in the 1990s, Ghostwriter was not just another educational program. It was different. It had mystery. It had suspense. It had neighborhood drama. It had a team of kids who felt real. It had a ghost nobody could see, but everyone could follow through words, letters, signs, messages and clues.

Many people want the glow without the cost. They want the gift without the responsibility. They want the title without the training. They want the blessing without the burden. They want the light, but they do not always want the opposition that comes when that light starts exposing darkness.

Captain Kirk was not just “the leader.” Spock was not just “the smart one.” Dr. McCoy was not just “the doctor.” Uhura was not just “the woman at communications.” Scotty was not just “the engineer.” Sulu was not just “the pilot.” Chekov was not just “the young officer.” Each character brought a different purpose, voice, pressure, worldview, skill, and emotional rhythm to the Enterprise.

But God says, “Behold, I will do a new thing.” That means God is not finished. That means the wilderness is not the end. That means the desert is not too dry for God to bring water. That means the place that looked impossible can still become the place where God makes a way.

Separation can hurt, especially when you do not understand why it is happening. But if God is in the separation, then the loneliness is not empty. It has purpose. It may be uncomfortable, but it can also become holy ground.