Candid Reflections Journal

How do you want people to remember you? This question is often raised in interviews with celebrities and other public figures. But leaving a legacy is not reserved for the famous— unsung heroes leave legacies too. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the legacy my mother left behind. She wasn't known around the world, but to the people who knew and loved her—even to those who watched her life from a distance—she was a great woman whose influence lives on today. Was my mother ever formally interviewed by anyone? Perhaps not. Did she go through life consciously thinking about the legacy she was leaving? I seriously doubt it. Yet, she most certainly left a lasting impact. That impact is evident in the lessons I teach my daughter and my students. It is felt when my siblings, my father, her friends, and her grandchildren model their lives after how she lived hers, or carry forward what they were taught by those of us who had the pleasure of knowing her. It is felt in the way her kindness is...

I marvel at the fact that the two recorded instances of Yeshua “marveling” both have to do with faith—one in its abundance and the other in its absence. In Luke 7:9 (NKJV), Yeshua was astonished by the great faith of a Roman centurion who told Him, “Don’t trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof. But say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Then, in stark contrast, Mark 6:6 (NKJV) tells us that Yeshua marveled at the unbelief of His own townspeople in Nazareth. Their familiarity with Him as “just the carpenter” blinded them to the reality of who He truly was, and their lack of faith hindered what He could do among them: “He could do no mighty work there, except that He laid His hands on a few sick people and healed them” (Mark 6:5 NKJV). They had access to the greatest blessing, yet their unbelief kept them from receiving it. Fresh off the heels of meditating on these insights, I revisited Mark 6 and was reminded of a powerful truth: our percepti...

Are you a master deflector? Put down your defenses—perhaps unwittingly, many of us are. Let’s do a quick self-check. What does deflecting look like? It can be as subtle as immediately—though silently—focusing on someone else’s flaws when we’re criticized or held to account. Or it can be as blatant as responding in a most hostile manner: “I may be dishonest, but you’re ugly,” for instance. Deflecting is not a skill worth mastering because true growth and character development only happen when we’re willing to take an honest look at ourselves. If you’re wondering what sparked this reflection,  it was a recent study of the Pharisees. The Pharisees - known for their hypocrisy, as they focused on outward behavior while avoiding self-examination - were experts at deflection. But alas, don’t be too quick to criticize them, for  many of us have more Pharisaic tendencies than we’d care to admit. If you want to be the kind of person who is honest with yourself, aware of your flaws, ...

It’s hard to break habits. As difficult as it is sometimes to muster up the very thought of putting in the effort to break bad habits—dealing with inevitable failures, starting over, and finding the tenacity to stick with the process—it’s worth stepping up and beginning.  Because when that bad habit is replaced with a good one, that new routine may likewise become hard to break. What bad habits are you looking to change? What good ones are you hoping to start? Just start. That’s the key—starting. And be wise about it. Don’t try to take on a million things all at once. Don’t set yourself up for burnout. Don’t overthink every step. Instead, pick one small, manageable change and commit to it. Years ago, I had a wake-up call. I stepped on a scale and saw that if I didn’t make some changes, I’d soon hit 200 pounds. That realization lit a fire in me. The very next day, I started walking. It wasn’t easy to break out of the routine of laziness, but I’d made up my mind. There was no way...

I recently revisited the account in Luke 5, where a carpenter instructs seasoned fishermen on how to fish. But this was no ordinary carpenter—this was Yeshua, the Savior of the world. In this moment, He was preparing to call Peter to follow Him. What better way to teach Peter about the rewards of surrendering control and walking in faith than through such an unexpected encounter? As the New Year approaches, many are tempted to declare, “New year, new me.” It’s a phrase that feels full of hope and potential. But how often does true change happen simply because the calendar flips to January 1st? Too often, the grand resolutions fade away by February—drowned out by old habits, busyness, or the overwhelming nature of trying to change everything at once. I’ve been there, chasing the excitement of resolutions only to find myself back where I started. For me, the thrill of New Year’s resolutions wore off a long time ago. Instead, I’ve found greater peace and more consistent results by embraci...

How many public apologies that scream "fake" can you recall being aired on social media in recent times? And what are the telltale signs that they were just another case of damage control meant to stave off the wrath of “cancel culture?” These apologies often seem more like scripted performances meant to pacify an irate audience and less like genuine remorse. The most recent one I beheld had glorious gospel music playing in the background—an ironic attempt at adding sincerity to an apology that was clearly anything but honest. How do I know that the apologist wasn't sincere? Because his words and actions after the apology failed to line up with his rehearsed recitation. But this post isn’t just about the spectacle of public apologies or the way social media lures unsuspecting victims into having to make these apologies in the first place. It's about what these situations can teach us before we find ourselves caught in the same trap, for social media tends to draw pe...