About Almost Morning

There’s something profound about those hours just before sunrise. That’s why I named this ministry Almost Morning — even in our darkest moments, dawn is always approaching. And believe me, I’ve had my share of darkness.

When people ask me why I started this ministry, I tell them it grew from the soil of my struggles. Through three back surgeries that tested not just my physical strength but my faith, through a battle with COVID that reminded me of life’s fragility, and through countless moments when giving up seemed easier than going on, God’s presence remained constant.

But there was a time when I couldn’t see His presence at all. After losing my job, I found myself in the darkest place I’d ever been. I remember being alone in our nation’s capital, surrounded by monuments and history, yet feeling empty inside. The weight of unemployment pressed down on me until I could barely breathe. There, in a city teeming with life and power, I methodically planned my demise, believing that everyone would be better off without me. That’s how far down I’d gone – from a person of faith to someone who couldn’t see past their pain.

But God wasn’t done with me. Not even close.

Even when I thought I’d reached the end, He was there. Through a series of what some might call coincidences – but I know better now – He began to show me that my story wasn’t over. The depth of my despair would one day become a lifeline for others teetering on that same edge.

I remember lying in my hospital bed after one of my back surgeries, staring at the ceiling and wondering why. Why this path? Why this pain? Why all these trials? But that’s the thing about God — He doesn’t waste our wounds. Those very experiences that threatened to break me – unemployment, suicidal thoughts, surgeries, illness – became the foundation of this ministry’s mission: to walk together through life’s darkest moments, offering support, encouragement, and prayer.

The back surgeries taught me patience. They stripped away my illusion of self-sufficiency and showed me what it truly means to depend on God’s strength rather than mine. Each step of recovery became a lesson in humility, a reminder that our weaknesses often become the channels through which God’s power flows most clearly.

Then came COVID. In those isolated days of fever and uncertainty, I learned another dimension of trust. It’s one thing to praise God when life goes according to plan; it’s quite another to worship from a place of vulnerability and fear. Yet there I was, struggling to breathe but still finding reasons to thank Him. Because even then, especially then, He was faithful.

At Almost Morning, we are a faith community grounded in the love of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. Every prayer request we receive and every story of a struggle shared with us reminds me why God allowed me to walk through my valleys. It wasn’t just for me — it was for every person who needs to hear that they’re not alone, that morning is coming, that God hasn’t forgotten them.

Looking back, I see how each challenge prepared me for this calling. The surgeries taught me compassion for those in physical pain. COVID showed me the importance of community, even when we’re physically apart. And those dark moments in Washington, D.C.? They gave me a heart for the hopeless, an understanding of true rock bottom, and the ability to tell others with absolute certainty that God can bring you back from even there.

Today, when I pray with someone facing their battles, I can confidently say that God brings us through. Not around, not away from, but through. Because it’s in the through that we grow, learn, and become who He created us to be. I’m living proof that the same God who lifted me from the pit of despair can turn our deepest wounds into our greatest purpose.

To everyone reading this who’s in their season of waiting for morning to break: hold on. Whether you’re facing unemployment, illness, depression, or thoughts of giving up, please hear me – your life has value. Your story isn’t over. The same God who carried me through unemployment, suicidal thoughts, surgeries, COVID, and every night of doubt and pain is with you, too. And as we say in our ministry, we’re here to walk together through life’s darkest moments, reminding each other that dawn is always on the horizon.

Sometimes, God’s greatest gifts come wrapped in our greatest challenges. Almost Morning exists because of this truth — not despite my struggles, but because of them. Every scar, tear, and moment of despair has been transformed into a testament to His faithfulness. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

But God wasn’t finished writing my story of restoration. Fifteen years ago, He brought Susan into my life, and everything changed. Our marriage has been the sweetest evidence of His redemptive power. Together, we’ve built a life that sometimes feels too beautiful to be real – especially when I remember those dark days in D.C. Susan isn’t just my wife; she’s living proof that God’s plans for us are better than anything we could imagine for ourselves.

Every morning, when I wake up beside her, I’m reminded of how far God has brought me. Our life together is filled with laughter, love, and a deep appreciation for each day we’re given. We’ve faced it all as one through ministry challenges, health battles, and life’s ups and downs. Susan’s strength, faith, and unwavering support have made these last thirteen years the most remarkable chapter of my story.

This is what God does – He takes our broken pieces and creates something beautiful. From contemplating the end of my life to celebrating thirteen years of marriage with the most amazing woman I know, from unemployment to running a ministry that touches lives across the globe – this is the God we serve. A God of second chances, new mornings, and love stories that can only be explained by His grace.

And that’s why Almost Morning exists. Because no matter how dark your night might be, dawn is coming. I know because I’ve lived it. Susan and I are here to walk alongside you until you see it.