The Brothers Bard

Twin quills, two paths, one Gospel

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Category: Eric’s Blog

  • Gratitude Through Pain: How God Uses Suffering to Shape Us

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    “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
    1 Thessalonians 5:18

    I woke up this morning at 5:30 with a familiar ache running down my right side. After years of hard jobs, injuries, and a roadside bomb in Afghanistan, mornings like this are nothing new. That IED exploded under the right front tire of my truck during a night patrol, and the force went straight through my body. It fractured my back and changed the entire way I live. Pain has been my shadow ever since—sometimes quiet, sometimes loud.

    As the pain pulsed, my mind went somewhere unexpected. I remembered my grandfather. At every family gathering, Grandpa Fish loved talking about the Kingdom of Heaven. One memory came back clearly. He wondered what our resurrected bodies might look like. He believed they would be strong and whole, without pain, but still marked with the scars of what we survived. Those scars, he thought, would stand as testimonies of God’s faithfulness.

    How Gratitude Broke Through

    That thought led me to my recent study of King David. In 2 Samuel 7:18–29—David’s prayer of gratitude—he asks, “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that You have brought me thus far?” He looked back over his entire life and saw God’s fingerprints everywhere. Even the parts that hurt.

    So I started thanking God. It wasn’t planned. It just happened.

    • I thanked Him for the pain because it proves I’m still here.
    • I thanked Him for the lessons learned through mistakes and mercy.
    • I thanked Him for saving me forty years ago.
    • I thanked Him for pulling me back to Him just two months ago.
    • I thanked Him for the grace over my family.
    • I thanked Him for bringing me “thus far.”

    Somewhere in that moment, the pain eased. I didn’t fall back asleep, but the time with the Lord gave me something rest couldn’t give—peace and strength.

    A Testimony Forged in Pain

    Here’s what I’ve learned: gratitude does something to you. Pain bends you, but gratitude straightens you. Pain presses down, but gratitude lifts your eyes back up. And when you walk with God long enough, you start to see that some pain isn’t punishment. It’s shaping. It’s strengthening. It’s forging you into someone God can use for His Kingdom.

    Reflection Questions

    1. What if your pain isn’t a burden to carry but something God wants to carry with you?
    2. What if your pain is preparing you for a calling you can’t see yet?

    Call to Action

    If this testimony encouraged you, share it with someone who needs hope today. And if you’re walking through something heavy, feel free to comment below—I’d be honored to pray for you.

    I

  • Transformation, Not Condemnation: A Journey of Identity in Christ

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    For the last six weeks, I have been going through a transition—true transformation, not condemnation. I didn’t realize until recently that for forty years I tried to fix my own spiritual problems. I filled the holes in my soul by myself and basically told God, “You don’t help anyway. I’ve got this.”

    I didn’t “hit bottom.” I hit a wall I built myself. One Saturday morning, when I planned to “try a devotion,” God met me. He reminded me that Christ died for me, and I was cheapening that salvation by trying to act as my own savior.

    Romans 8:1 says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” I had read that verse for years. I never believed it applied to me.

    Six Weeks of Renewing My Faith

    Since that morning, I’ve been consistent with daily devotionals. As I’ve grown in my walk with Jesus, spiritual attacks increased. They came during prayer, during worship, and even in moments of peace. The distractions were constant—unworthiness, old temptations, anger, anxiety, and all kinds of shiny things that tried to pull me off course.

    But during a small group session, something hit me that changed everything: God knew me before He laid the foundations of the earth (Ephesians 1). He knew my identity before sin ever touched me. He knew the man I was intended to be. I had made a choice to follow Him forty years ago, but I ignored that identity for decades.

    Transformation, Not Condemnation: What God Revealed

    These last six weeks have been rejuvenating. But they exposed something deep inside me. I realized I kept begging God for forgiveness for sins I had already confessed. Satan used my past failures to distract me from my identity in Christ.

    Here’s what God showed me in this season of Christian transformation:

    • My feelings of unworthiness were not humility—they were an attack.
      They were a tactic to keep me from walking in my identity. My unworthiness wasn’t a flaw. It was proof God finally had room to work.
    • Temptation still hits me daily—and that’s good.
      Dead men don’t fight. Resisting temptation is not weakness. It’s evidence that I’m alive in Christ. It’s proof of spiritual transformation.
    • The enemy doesn’t waste ammo on the men he already owns.
      If I’m under fire, it’s because I switched sides.
    • This isn’t unworthiness. It’s sanctification.
      It’s ongoing. It’s messy. And it’s real.

    The Freedom of “No Condemnation”

    It’s still hard for me to accept that there is “now therefore no condemnation.” I dragged my past behind me for decades. Dropping those chains feels foreign—almost alien. But this is the truth of freedom in Christ.

    Right now, I’m learning to meditate on Scripture and on the forgiveness God already gave me. I’m training my soul. I’m letting the Word discipline my emotions. And after years of spiritual silence, I’m learning again how to hear the Holy Spirit.

    A Son, Not a Slave

    I’m adopted into the family of God. That means I am a son of the King. But I still sometimes act like a slave. This walk is new to me. I’m finally living the faith I pretended to live for decades.

    Jesus didn’t prove His kingship by domination. He proved it through service—washing His disciples’ feet, healing the broken, lifting the forgotten. He serves even now from the Throne of Grace, until He returns in glory.

    Final Thoughts: Transformation, Not Condemnation

    • I am forgiven, and there is no condemnation.
    • My worthiness is inherited, not earned.
    • I’m learning to walk as a son, not a slave.

    If you’re carrying shame God already buried, lay it down.
    Christ already picked it up.

  • When I Agree With Trump Policies — But Still Won’t Reward Trump

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    “Full throttle, no map, and no brakes.”

    I’ll lead with this confession: parts of Donald Trump’s agenda hit home. I may agree with some Trump policies but not Trump himself. His hard line on trade, his vow to lock down the border, his promise to unleash American industry — they resonated. But liking a few lines in his playbook doesn’t mean you hand the wheel to a stunt driver heading for a cliff. Trump may have steered us toward a few promising roads, but he did it while slamming the horn, redlining the engine, and flipping off every other driver in sight. That’s not leadership — it’s a joyride that wrecks the nation’s soul.

    The Policies That Actually Made Sense

    I’ll give him props where they’re due, but let’s be real — these ideas predated his campaign. He just cranked up the volume.

    • Economic Pressure on China: America was getting steamrolled in trade. Someone had to push back. Trump played bouncer. See Council of Foreign Relations
    • Border Security: Knowing who crosses your line isn’t xenophobia — it’s sovereignty. See The Reagan Foundation
    • Regulatory Cuts: Red tape strangles startups. Cutting it back can spark innovation. See Mercatus.org

    Sound policies, sure — but wrapping them in bombast and branding them as genius doesn’t make them new. Loud isn’t the same as right. Charisma isn’t the same as character.

    The Character That Corroded the Message

    Having the right objectives won’t save you if your conduct is a dumpster fire. You can fortify borders and still honor human dignity. You can defend free speech and still respect facts. You can streamline government without torching civility.

    Instead, Trump turned every podium into a pit fight, every press briefing into a viral brawl. Ego was his fertilizer, and his policies withered in the toxic soil. Over time, pride became policy, and rage became culture. The result? A nation divided and weaponized against itself.

    Why Agreeing With Trump Policies Doesn’t Mean Rewarding Trump

    I spent years on the beat as a cop. I met plenty of people who managed to do the right thing once in a while — between crimes. That didn’t earn them freedom; it earned them a record. Politics works the same way. Praising a handful of wins while ignoring the wreckage sends a dangerous message: that ethics are negotiable. America’s too fragile for that deal. (Related: my piece on character and accountability)

    What I’m Demanding

    I want leaders who marry competence with conscience — who fight for jobs and secure borders without reaching for the tyrant’s playbook. Who defend speech without mocking truth. Who wield power with humility and restraint.

    That’s not idealism — that’s adulthood. I’ll take good ideas from any side, but I won’t kneel at the altar of personality. Patriotism isn’t a hall pass for misconduct; it’s a demand for integrity.

    The Bottom Line

    I’m conservative, but I’ve never been blind to common sense, no matter where it comes from. I respected Clinton’s ability to compromise, and I respect any leader — right or left — who governs with balance and humility. I could get behind someone like Fetterman who remembers that government is about people, not personality.

    You can applaud the hits without endorsing the hitter. Trump reminded us that America still packs a punch — but strength without grace is just noise. I’m done rewarding the racket.

    Question for readers: If you agree with Trump policies but not Trump, where do you draw the line? And if results alone were guaranteed, would character still be your deciding factor?

  • Procrastination: Spiritual Suicide

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    “Tomorrow’s obedience can’t redeem today’s neglect.”

    Procrastination is a defiant roar at heaven—an arrogant claim that God owes you another chance to do what He’s already given you time to do.

    “Do not be anxious for tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”— Matthew 6:34

    Yet I ignore it. I shove today into tomorrow, hoping it will vanish.

    “I passed by the field of a sluggard, by the vineyard of a man lacking sense…”— Proverbs 24:30-31

    We know the truth by bitter experience: tasks won’t bury themselves; they circle like vultures. Still we delay. Too often I stare at my work with hollow eyes, energy scattered like dust in the wind. I shove papers aside, paralyzed, unsure where to begin. Meanwhile I’ve poured my soul into prayer and Scripture—and felt my zeal rise for God, but not for the work before me. Tomorrow I face more work. Will my purpose claim victory, or will sloth win again?

    “The sluggard does not plow in the autumn; he will seek at harvest and have nothing.”— Proverbs 20:4

    Why do farmers plow in autumn? Because every moment counts—every delay is a stolen harvest. No chore grows less hateful by being postponed.

    “Not now” is still a decision. Delay begets disobedience.

    “To him who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin.”— James 4:17

    “Leave the dead to bury their own dead… go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” … “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”— Luke 9:59–62

    Being a Christian demands fierce action. To delay is to whisper that God’s command ranks below our trivial comforts. Jesus set an uncompromising standard: nothing is more urgent than readying ourselves and others for His coming Kingdom.

    “Whoever watches the wind will not plant; whoever looks at the clouds will not reap.”— Ecclesiastes 11:4

    Daydreaming and dawdling reap nothing but dust.

    “A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest—and poverty will come on you like a robber, want like an armed man.”— Proverbs 24:33-34

    Delay invites disaster. We’re called to work—to spread the Word, yes, but also to provide for our families. Procrastination in our jobs courts destitution.

    Thorns and Weeds: Unfruitfulness

    Unchecked, sloth grows thorns around our potential. An unattended job can be as perilous as a live wire: lose it, and you starve your household. Worse still, in a dangerous field, a distracted mind spells ruin.

    Lowered Defenses: Vulnerability

    Procrastination shatters our defenses. Laziness lowers the drawbridge. By refusing what we know we should do, we hijack our confidence and self-worth. For me, idleness opened the door to lust and pornography—if I wasn’t working, I was scrolling, and a cluttered mind breeds its own destruction. Unordered lives stumble into loss: loss of dignity, of purpose—even of life itself.

    Stolen Destiny: Sudden Scarcity

    Solomon warns that postponement brings abrupt scarcity—poverty striking without warning.

    Procrastination is the failure to make small choices that build to victory. By delaying, I’ve become the thing I once despised. I’ve stalled God’s plans for me, hoarding time like a miser and spitting on the gifts He’s given. It’s agonizing to read these Scriptures and see myself as the sluggard, the slovenly one.

    We are not promised tomorrow.— James 4:13 (paraphrase)

    “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”— Matthew 6:33

    I have a author friend, Nick Cole (www.nickcolebooks.com), who says “everyday is Gladiator Training day”—he trains his body, his mind, his spirit without excuse. He stands ready. Meanwhile I’ve ballooned eighty pounds, ignored serious exercise for a decade, and only now am I rising again in the Word and the Spirit.

    Right now, I must choose: sloth or sword.

    No more defiance. No more delay. Today, I plow.

  • Carter’s Ascent

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    Once a brother. Now a ghost made of rage

    Carter’s Ascent

    By dawn the gale had eased to a whisper, but the mountain still murmured threats.

    Carter climbed from the shaft one deliberate step at a time, each footfall cracking like a pistol shot across the frozen ground. His breath coiled upward in pale plumes, drifting like ghosts he’d summoned. Snow lay waist-deep, but the path was etched in his memory—every boulder, ridge, and hollow carved into recall.

    The Cordans were gone, driven off by superstition and the storm’s fury. No witnesses. No interruptions. Perfect.

    At the ridge’s lip he paused, watching a tide of cloud roll over the valley, drowning it in gray. Silence pressed close, heavy and absolute. His armor sealed with a soft hiss, plates locking into place. The tether line hung behind him, a limp promise of retreat he’d never honor. He didn’t look back.

  • Why Hope Is Necessary for Walking in Christ

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    Hope lit the path — faith takes the first step.

    Faith, hope, and love — three strands that hold the believer upright. But hope is often the quietest, the easiest to lose, and the hardest to recover.

    🎯 Faith Needs Something to Aim At

    For us, hope is closely aligned with faithfulness; the two are fundamentally interconnected. Without hope, there is no faithfulness — not really. Our hope for salvation is faith. Without hope, we have no salvation.

    The enemy likes to take away our hope — to put us in situations where we feel hopeless and unworthy. That’s why hope seems to be a prerequisite for walking in Christ.

    📖 “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
    — Hebrews 11:1

    Faith needs something to aim at. Without hope, faith has no target.

    🚶‍♂️ Despair Kills Movement

    If you’ve given up, you can’t walk forward. Hope gives direction.

    Paul often lists faith, hope, and love together — not as random virtues, but as a three-legged stool. Take one away, and the walk collapses.

    ✝️ Christ Is the Object and the Source of Hope

    📜 “Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
    — Colossians 1:27

    Walking in Christ isn’t just about living morally; it’s living with the confident expectation that His life in you will one day be fully revealed.

    Hope becomes not just motivation — it’s proof you’re on the right track.

    🌅 Closing Reflection

    Hope doesn’t ignore despair — it defies it.
    When faith grows weary, hope looks ahead.
    And in every step, Christ Himself remains both the path and the destination.

    — Eric Lindsey, The Brothers Bard

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