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.

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.

Many people are praying for a new season while still carrying the weight of the last one. They are asking God for fresh doors, fresh peace, fresh strength, fresh vision and fresh opportunity, but their hands are still full of old burdens, old offenses, old fears, old habits, old regrets and old versions of themselves that cannot survive where God is taking them next.

We often want the visible fruit. We want the open door, the public breakthrough, the answered prayer, the platform, the promotion, the testimony and the moment where everything finally makes sense. But before God allows fruit to be seen publicly, He often strengthens roots privately. He develops faith in the quiet place, discipline in the hidden place and endurance in the seasons where your obedience may not look impressive to anyone else.

Some people think favor means nothing ever hurts you. But real favor is sometimes revealed in the fact that what hurt you did not destroy you. What disappointed you did not define you. What betrayed you did not bury you. What came against you did not get the final word over your life.

Life has a way of making us feel like everything is too late. Too late to dream. Too late to change habits. Too late to repair relationships. Too late to pursue purpose. Too late to make better decisions. Too late to become who God has been calling us to be. Regret will try to convince you that because you did not move sooner, there is no point in moving now.

What happens when the door stays closed, the opportunity passes, the relationship ends, the plan falls apart, the answer is delayed or the thing you prayed for does not happen the way you expected? What happens when you asked God to bless something, but instead He blocked it? What happens when you thought rejection was an attack, but later realized it may have been protection?

Isaiah 40:29 says, “He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might He increases strength.” That Scripture does not shame weakness. It meets weakness with power. It tells us that God is not offended by our exhaustion. He knows when we are running low, and He is able to increase strength in places where human effort has reached its limit.

We often ask God for increase, but we do not always expect increase to make old environments feel tight. We ask for growth, but then we get surprised when old habits no longer satisfy us. We ask for wisdom, but then wonder why certain conversations begin to feel shallow. We ask for purpose, but then become frustrated when God starts pulling us away from things that once had easy access to our time, attention and emotions.

At first, a wake-up call may not feel like favor. It may feel frustrating, embarrassing, inconvenient or painful. It may make you ask why God allowed something to be exposed, interrupted or delayed. But when you look deeper, you may realize that God was not trying to hurt you. He was trying to get your attention before something hurt you more.

But God does not prepare people according to social media timelines. He does not need applause to be working, an audience to develop an anointing or public attention to shape someone for purpose. There are seasons when God hides you, not because He is ashamed of you, but because He is protecting what He is building in you.

If we are going to honor America honestly, we have to tell the whole story. America’s history includes courage, vision, sacrifice, invention, opportunity and perseverance. It also includes slavery, stolen labor, segregation, discrimination, broken promises and people who had to fight for this nation to live up to the liberty it claimed from the beginning.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” That means life is not random. Seasons do not just happen without meaning. Even when we cannot see the reason, God can still use every season to prepare us, protect us, strengthen us, redirect us and bring us closer to the purpose He has placed on our lives.

On June 19, 1865, enslaved Black people in Galveston, Texas, were finally informed that they were free. The Emancipation Proclamation had been issued more than two years earlier, but freedom was delayed for many. That reality is painful because it reminds us that a declaration can exist on paper while people are still waiting to experience its promise in real life. And that is part of why Juneteenth matters so much.

On the eve of my 18th wedding anniversary with my wife, Tajuana, I find myself grateful. Not casually grateful, but deeply grateful. Grateful for love. Grateful for friendship. Grateful for covenant. Grateful for the journey. Grateful for the laughter, the lessons, the growth and even the challenges that taught us how to keep choosing each other.

On the eve of my 44th birthday, I am reminded that purpose is still calling. There are still words to write. There are still stories to tell. There are still people to encourage. There are still prayers to pray. There are still books to publish. There are still dreams to pursue. There are still platforms to build. There are still lives to impact.

Hebrews 11:6 says, “But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” That verse reminds us that believing God is not passive. It is not just religious language. It is a posture of the heart that says, “God, I trust You are real, I trust You are present, and I trust You are working even when I cannot fully explain what You are doing.”

It is about honoring men and women who sacrificed their lives in military service so that others could live in freedom. It is about remembering people who left home wearing a uniform and never returned the same way—or never returned at all. It is about recognizing that many of the freedoms we casually enjoy every day came with a cost paid by somebody else.

Today, on my mother Marjorie Reed’s birthday, I am reminded of how deeply God favored me by allowing her to be my mother. Not just because she gave birth to me. Not just because she raised me. But because she believed in me. She saw something in me early. She nurtured what was there. She paid attention to the things that made me come alive.

When God favors us with mothers and mother figures, He gives us something powerful. He gives us nurture. He gives us covering. He gives us wisdom. He gives us correction. He gives us warmth. He gives us somebody who can see what we need before we know how to ask for it. And even when the relationship is imperfect, complicated or absent, the need for mothering still speaks to something God placed deep within the human heart.