“Easter Sunday”

Today was Easter Sunday, and church felt more alive than ever. The service was filled with music, celebration, and a message that stirred something deep within me—transformation through Christ. We weren’t just commemorating the resurrection of Jesus—we were witnessing what it truly means for our own lives today. That new life, healing, and freedom are still being offered to all of us, right now.

This Easter hit differently. It felt personal. It felt sacred.

I spent the first 18 years of my life in the Catholic Church. That foundation gave me a reverence for faith and tradition—but if I’m being honest, my true connection to God didn’t fully awaken until I walked into The Rock Church. That’s where things changed. That’s where the walls started to come down. Where I felt seen—not just as a church-goer, but as a soul in need of restoration.

At The Rock, I felt the presence of God in a way I hadn’t before. I didn’t feel like I had to be perfect or polished. I could just be me—messy, emotional, trying to heal. And that was enough.

God met me right there.

If you’ve read my story, you know I’ve been through a lot. I’ve carried emotional wounds from childhood, faced mental health struggles, and fought to understand the weight I was carrying. I’ve walked through frustration, isolation, and confusion—ever since I was a little boy, even marked on old report cards. My journey wasn’t smooth, but it’s been real. And every part of it brought me here.

Through therapy, medication, the guidance of an amazing psychiatrist, and the unshakable love of those around me, I started to experience what transformation really looks like. And through church—through this church—I found the deeper healing I was craving. I found Jesus not as a story, but as a Savior.

Today, I brought my cousin Sydne and a good friend to service. Sydne has endured deep pain in her life, and for her to be there, standing in faith, was nothing short of powerful. It reminded me that healing isn’t always loud—it starts in small moments of surrender. She, like me, is stepping into the light after years of gray.

The sermon reminded us that resurrection is real. Not just for Christ, but for us.

Romans 8:11 (NIV) says:

“And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.”

That’s the Spirit I’ve felt at work in my life—restoring me, guiding me, breathing life into places I thought were long dead.

Isaiah 43:19 (NIV) says:

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

And I do. I see it. I feel it. I’m living it.

Easter is proof that no matter what we’ve been through, God isn’t finished with us. He is still moving stones. Still calling us out of the tomb. Still offering us a new name, a new path, a new beginning.

And the beauty of it all? He’s not asking us to come perfectly. He’s asking us to come honestly.

I used to think transformation looked like becoming someone else—someone better, someone without all the cracks. But I’ve learned it’s about becoming more of who I was always meant to be. Someone with purpose. Someone with a story worth telling. Someone whose brokenness didn’t disqualify them—it prepared them.

This Easter reminded me that my pain had a purpose. That every setback was setting me up for a stronger return. That God doesn’t waste any part of our story—not the tears, not the frustration, not the years that felt lost.

If you’re still waiting for your own resurrection, let me be proof that it’s possible.

Because I’m living it.

And if God can raise someone like me—He can raise you too.