There are so many beautiful and tender moments that one can share. It is impossible to place it completely by writing, but the essence is what counts. It is to understand such an immensity of what Father Almighty does in our life and in others. Today has been a special day, you get to meet people that even in the midst of their struggle, they are so holding on to Father’s hand. There are so many points to this writing, here something that is beautiful as I was researching some points…One of them is to be a “Receptive Compass, this implies that your greatest strengths are internal, a natural moral compass, deep emotional resilience, and an innate ability to ground yourself (the anchor) when life gets chaotic, a foundational, unshakeable part of who you are.”
I had quite a day. Nothing major, but enough little things happened that it eventually led to the point where even my car’s battery decided to die… a good day to be moody!
We tried using the battery charger box we had, but it did not work. Then, a very nice lady tried to help us by letting us use her car cables to charge the battery from car to car.
Luckily, the car has roadside assistance, and they came very quickly. Thank goodness for Rick Case and their customer service—such awesome assistance. Our earth angel, Chaz, from Rick Case VW Roadside Assistance, came and got the car started, and it will receive service tomorrow.
My thought was, We are so far away from where we are staying.
I had programmed two calls—one to pray and another to share Father Almighty’s Seal. However, at that moment, my mind was so focused on getting the car started and trying to make everything work in the middle of the situation.
Suddenly, I had this thought: It may be impossible to make it there.
But then I thought, You know what? If it is His will, you will make it there.
Thankfully, the sister was waiting.
As I entered the place where I am staying, a call came in: “Did you forget?”
I smiled, explained what had happened, and thought, How great is my God.
The person was ready to receive the Seal.
On the other hand, I thought about how powerful the opposing side can be when it does not want a soul to experience contentment or to have joy in the middle of her struggles.
So, we got ready. With the sister in one country and the other person in another country, we placed the call together.
I have had the privilege of speaking with many strong people who are going through struggles and sicknesses—even those who have nothing more to do but wait for what is to come.
It is in those moments when you think:
“Wait, Mr. Darkside. This soul belongs to my Father Almighty, and today is not your day.”
Yes, yes—she received the Seal. She confirmed it and felt love from Heaven and joy. She explained how she overcomes her obstacles every single day—not only because she is sick, but because her father is also facing difficulties.
Her son had been denied the opportunity to join the armed forces, which was one of the greatest wishes in her heart: to see her son receive a formation and future through the armed forces in Ecuador.
I have high hopes that, knowing his grandfather’s and mother’s situation, the armed forces would accept him.
These are the dreams of a mother who has been told that there is not much more that can be done for her in this life.
Oh my, such strength—strength that only Father in Heaven can provide.
There is such transformation, resilience, and persistence within her and within her prayers.
And perhaps that is the beauty of faith: even when circumstances say “no,” the heart continues to believe, continues to pray, and continues to hope.
Sometimes, we do not understand why an obstacle appears in our path. A car battery dies. Plans are interrupted. We wonder whether we will make it in time.
But somehow, the path still opens.
The car started.
The call happened.
The sister was waiting.
The Seal was received.
And a soul experienced love and joy in the middle of her struggle.
Perhaps that was the greater reminder of the day:
What looks like an interruption does not always mean the purpose has been interrupted.
Sometimes, we simply have to keep moving, keep believing, and trust that if Father Almighty has appointed the moment, He will make a way for us to arrive.
So, Mr. Darkside…
not today.
This soul belongs to Father Almighty.
And today, there was still a prayer to pray, a Seal to share, a heart to encourage, and hope to carry across borders.
Peace
As I walk the path of trying to grasp the beauty of what Father Almighty does day by day, I have learned that sometimes the smallest moments can carry the greatest meaning.
Two days ago, I went to Hobby Lobby to pick up some cardboard that was on sale and some paint. As I walked through the store, I came upon a beautiful sunflower craft cutout placed right in front of me.
In my heart, it felt like such a beautiful visit from my mother, especially because this month marks one year since her passing.
But then I began thinking about the meaning of the sunflower.
The sunflower turns toward the light, following the sun from east to west. To me, it speaks of steadfast faith—of a flower that faces the sunshine, reminding me to keep my eyes fixed upon Jesus.
As I continued walking, I came upon three roses.
The rose carries such powerful symbolism because its beauty exists alongside its thorns. The thorns do not take away from the beauty of the rose; rather, they remind us that genuine love and stewardship can involve both beauty and sacrifice.
Even the petals spoke to me of love—love given away to the one who needs it. Something intentional. Something cultivated. Something cared for.
Sometimes, we do not realize how much joy Father Almighty desires to provide, even after we have lost someone we deeply loved. Grief can make us look backward, while Father may gently be showing us something beautiful still waiting ahead.
It is His gentle guidance, His rescue, and His loving care for His people.
You see, I love sharing these writings. Sometimes they are very long. Other times, they may read almost like parables—something we are trying to understand, even when the meaning is not immediately clear. But perhaps that is part of the beauty.
Perhaps we are simply being invited to look again, to listen again, and to discover the beauty in the ashes.
I may speak about Father Almighty throughout my writings, but the most important reason I write is this:
I want others to have hope.
I want people to carry love in their hearts—a hope that reminds them that faith can move barriers and mountains, and that even waters can part, making a way where there seemed to be no way.
Sometimes, that way places love directly in front of you.
There is so much kindness in this world, but above all, there is tenderness—the tenderness of caring for those who need an extended hand of love.
There is such beauty in sharing and caring.
My faith belongs to Heaven, and my faith rests in Father Almighty. It is found in those unshakable moments when you begin to see evidence of His immeasurable light and love—the kind of love that picks us up in the palm of His hand, carries us when we cannot carry ourselves, and then gently brings us back to where we need to be.
And perhaps this is also what leadership truly means.
It is leadership that crosses cultures and traditions—a symbol of guidance, protection, courage, and sacrificial love.
Perhaps the most important lesson is what happens when Father Almighty gives you love and teaches you how to love others, no matter what.
To serve without expectation.
To care without needing recognition.
To have the courage to complete what has been entrusted to you simply because it is your responsibility to do so.
Interestingly, as I was reading and writing this part, the television was on and the movie Man of Steel was playing. A quote spoken by Kevin Costner’s character caught my attention:
“People are afraid of what they do not understand.”
It made me think about how often we fear what we cannot explain—or how easily we judge what we can see and hear without truly understanding what lies beneath it.
Then, as I scrolled through Instagram, I came across a “word of the day”:
Occhiolism—the awareness of the smallness of your own perspective within the vast scope of the Universe.
I follow Wodcast, although I am not certain whether this particular post came from them or from someone else. Unfortunately, I can no longer find it, so please forgive me for not being able to properly mention the original source.
But the word stayed with me.
Perhaps there is something deeply humbling about recognizing how small our perspective can be within the vastness of creation.
We see one moment.
Father sees the whole journey.
We see the flower.
He sees the soil, the seed, the seasons, the rain, the sunlight, and what the flower will eventually become.
We see the thorn.
He sees the beauty that continues to grow despite it.
We see our loss.
He can still show us life.
And perhaps it is through leadership, valiance, courage, and humility that we begin to admire the smallest things and observe the vast scope of the Universe with greater wonder.
The more we look, the more beautiful it becomes.
A sunflower teaches us to turn toward the light.
A rose teaches us that beauty can exist alongside sacrifice.
Its petals remind us that love is meant to be given.
Its thorns remind us that what is beautiful can also require protection and care.
And perhaps peace begins when we stop trying to understand everything at once and simply become willing to observe what Father Almighty is placing before us.
Sometimes the message is not found in something enormous.
Sometimes it is found in a sunflower at Hobby Lobby.
Three roses.
A memory of my mother.
A sentence spoken in a movie.
A word discovered while scrolling.
Small things.
Yet somehow, together, they become part of a much greater picture.
Perhaps this is what peace teaches us:
to slow down enough to see.
To see the beauty.
To see the person.
To see the opportunity to love.
To see what we once overlooked.
And, most importantly, to understand that our perspective may be small, but Father Almighty’s vision is not.
So I will continue to look.
I will continue to write.
I will continue to search for the beauty in the ashes.
And I will continue to turn toward the Light.
Because perhaps peace is not found in having every answer.
Perhaps peace is found in trusting the One who sees what we cannot yet see.
Eyes fixed upon Jesus.
Heart open to love.
Hands willing to serve.
And a soul willing to discover the beauty Father Almighty has placed—even in the smallest details of this extraordinary universe.**
The Courage to Carry History Forward
Evidence of a cultural shift is not always found in the loudness of change, but in the quiet transformation of hearts, values, actions, and the way a people come to understand their place in history.
There is a courage that endures.
A courage formed through sacrifice, strengthened by training, deepened by knowledge, and illuminated by the willingness to bring what has been hidden into the light. What was done yesterday, what is being carried today, and what will be entrusted to tomorrow are not separate moments, but threads woven into the greater tapestry of a people and a nation.
Some moments arrive quietly, yet carry the weight of history.
They become witnesses to what courage can endure, what knowledge can reveal, and what light can accomplish when it is not concealed. What has been, what is, and what shall continue to be may belong not only to those who lived it, but to the history of a nation—and, perhaps, to a story that deserves to be heard beyond its own borders.
The Reality of Genuine Love
At the heart of such a journey is the reality of genuine love.
Genuine love is more than a feeling or a spoken promise. It is an active and selfless commitment to the well-being and dignity of others, given without demanding anything in return. It is the willingness to see another person, to recognize their worth, and to extend a hand when one could simply walk away.
Love becomes visible through stewardship.
To be a steward is to recognize that something has been entrusted to our care—people, resources, gifts, places, opportunities, and even the stories we inherit. True stewardship is the careful and responsible tending of what has been placed in our hands, not merely for ourselves, but for the benefit of others and for generations yet to come.
And there is beauty in this kind of giving.
The beauty of helping another person is not always found in the magnitude of the act. Sometimes it is found in the quiet connection created between two human beings—a connection that can uplift both the one receiving support and the one offering it.
In that exchange, something sacred can happen.
The giver discovers that generosity does not diminish what one possesses; it can enlarge the heart. The receiver discovers that they have not been forgotten. And between them, a bridge is formed—a quiet testimony that humanity is strengthened when we choose to care for one another.
Yet genuine love also carries the language of sacrifice.
Sacrifice means intentionally surrendering something of personal value—our time, comfort, energy, resources, or even our own convenience—for the well-being of another. It is not always dramatic. Often, the greatest sacrifices are made quietly, without recognition and without expectation of reward.
There is a profound dignity in such sacrifice.
For what we willingly give for another becomes part of the legacy we leave behind.
The Solidarity of Sacrifice
At the heart of this is a profound solidarity born from sacrifice.
It remembers what has already been given, while quietly asking what we are still willing to give for the sake of those who will come after us. The past is summoned into the present not merely through memory, but through a tangible act of commitment—a consent of the heart, a clearly expressed desire to continue together.
To walk together is itself a testimony.
A nation does not exist only in its borders, its institutions, or its monuments. It lives through the daily courage of its people—their willingness to preserve what is worthy, to correct what must be changed, and to carry hope forward when the road is uncertain.
Perhaps this is where love and stewardship meet:
we care for what we have been entrusted with because we understand that it does not belong to us alone.
We become guardians of what may one day belong to another generation.
And so it is with the individual.
Life is a continual affirmation:
I will stand.
I will endure.
I will learn.
I will serve.
I will love.
I will continue.
Perhaps this is how history is truly carried forward—not simply by remembering what came before, but by becoming faithful stewards of what has been entrusted to us.
For every generation receives something from the past,
and every generation leaves something for the future.
The question is not only what history will remember of us,
but what light we will leave behind for those who come after us.
What if the true measure of a life is not what we managed to possess, but what we were willing to steward?
What if the beauty of our journey is found not in how much we kept, but in how much love we were willing to give?
And what if sacrifice, offered in genuine love, becomes one of the quietest ways history is transformed?
Then perhaps what was once a small act of courage
will become a testimony.
What was given will not be forgotten.
What was entrusted will be tended.
What was sacrificed will carry meaning.
And what was done in love may continue to bear fruit long after we are gone.
For love does not simply remember history.
Love helps shape what history becomes.
And perhaps, in the fullness of time,
the light we carried,
the people we served,
the beauty we created,
and the sacrifices we made
will become part of a greater testimony—
a witness that solidarity was not in vain,
that stewardship was an act of faith,
that genuine love could withstand adversity,
and that the human spirit, when united in purpose and compassion,
can continue to affirm life
and carry hope forward
from one generation to the next.
Absolutely. I would preserve the heart of what you wrote—the stamp, the rose and its thorns, the Crossmark, sacrifice, service, inheritance, testimony, and the vision of a nation becoming one through love—but give it a more flowing, prophetic cadence and make the transitions gentler.
The Stamp of His Love
True beauty is found in the beautiful stamp that declares: we are His.
It is a mark of belonging—a sacred impression upon the soul. And when that mark is carried within us, peace can become the atmosphere in which the flock finds rest, regardless of the storm surrounding them.
There is also a subtle and beautiful connection to Christ’s sacrificial love in the rose. The rose does not lose its beauty because it has thorns. Rather, the beauty and the cost exist together. The fragrance does not deny the wound, and the thorn does not diminish the flower.
For me, it is the Crossmark—a reminder of the unshakable part of who I am.
It speaks of a journey of falling and rising, of being broken and restored, of learning that what appears to be an ending may become the very ground upon which purpose begins to grow.
For some, it is a duty.
For others, a calling.
For many, a purpose carried quietly through ordinary days.
Yet we are all souls entrusted with a purpose in this life.
It does not matter what profession we hold, what work we perform, or what uniform we wear. The moment people come together to resist evil, protect what is good, and bring the best out of one another, something greater begins to take shape.
Perhaps true balance begins when we learn to distinguish the function from the person, the uniform from the soul, and the duty from the human being who carries it.
A uniform represents a responsibility.
It does not define the entirety of the person wearing it.
And perhaps this is where love teaches us to see again.
So let us pray. Let us praise God for those who are willing to place themselves in harm’s way for others—for those deployed far from home, for those who stand watch while families sleep, and for every person who willingly accepts a measure of sacrifice so that another may have the opportunity to live in peace.
This is not about government.
It is not about politics.
It is not about which party we represent.
There is something deeper.
It is the possibility of becoming a nation of one heart, where we remember the ancient commandment:
to love one another.
There is a particular kind of courage in those who serve—a courage that is not merely physical, but moral and deeply human. A recruitment of soldiers with enormous hearts; people willing to give themselves for something greater than themselves. Those who have surrendered comfort, safety, and sometimes even their lives carry a virtue that deserves remembrance.
And in reflecting upon the word stamp, I was struck by another thought: the value of inheritance.
A stamp authenticates.
A stamp identifies.
A stamp bears witness.
Perhaps our lives do the same.
Every person carries something that cannot be duplicated—a testimony, a story, an inheritance, a particular destiny entrusted by Father Almighty.
There is a special destiny for every person.
And today, perhaps the greater reminder is this: our testimony matters.
Our stories matter.
They become part of the history not only of individuals and families, but of generations. They testify to the places where Father Almighty has touched a life, restored a heart, redirected a path, or brought light into circumstances that once seemed impossible.
And He does not touch only the lives of believers.
He reaches the believer and the unbeliever, the wounded and the searching, the strong and the struggling, the person who has everything and the person who believes he has nothing left.
Perhaps an entire generation is thirsty for Living Water—searching for something that violence cannot provide, something that power cannot manufacture, something that possessions cannot purchase.
They are searching for peace.
And perhaps the prophetic invitation before us is not merely to condemn violence, but to isolate it by refusing to reproduce it—to answer hatred without becoming hateful, to confront darkness without surrendering our light, and to build an America worth fighting for rather than merely fighting against something.
An America blessed beyond borders.
A nation where unity is not forced uniformity, but the awakening of something that was already there—a unity existing quietly, perhaps even latently, waiting to be recognized.
Such national integration is the realization of a unity that already exists in a latent state of anticipation.
It is the moment when separate lives begin to recognize that they were never meant to exist only for themselves.
And perhaps the deepest inheritance we can leave behind is not wealth, property, titles, or possessions.
It is love.
It is courage.
It is mercy.
It is wisdom.
It is the testimony that says:
I was here.
I served.
I loved.
I endured.
I helped another rise.
And I left the world a little better than I found it.
In my heart, I am thankful for every single person who serves, wherever you may be.
You are in my prayers.
Your sacrifice reminds me of the cultural moments that have awakened questions of faith in America—from Jesus Revolution, to the powerful history behind TIME’s Jesus Revolution cover, and even the earlier cultural question posed by “Is God Dead?”—and, in another profoundly different way, the events of September 11, 2001, which brought a nation face-to-face with questions of life, death, courage, faith, sacrifice, and what truly holds us together.
Perhaps these moments, though separated by time and circumstance, become threads in a larger story.
A story of a people searching.
A story of a generation thirsting for Living Water.
A story of a nation learning again that strength without love becomes hard, and love without courage becomes fragile.
But when love, courage, wisdom, peace, and sacrifice stand together, something unshakable begins to emerge.
And perhaps that is the Crossmark.
Not merely a mark of suffering—
but a mark of belonging, inheritance, redemption, and resurrection.
A reminder that the rose may still have thorns.
That the journey may still have falling and rising.
That the night may still come.
But the stamp remains.
We are His.
And therefore, even in the midst of uncertainty, we can become a people who carry peace into the places where peace is needed most.
A people who remember.
A people who serve.
A people who love.
A people who rise.
And a people who refuse to let the light go out.
Ref
Courage Under Fire by Wiley Sword
Lighting the Way Karenna Gore Schiff
National History and the World of Nation
Author’s Note: This piece was written by Arlette Marin. AI assistance was used for grammar correction, language refinement, and stylistic editing while preserving the author’s original thoughts, experiences, and message.
IT ALL STARTS WITH LOVE: FAITH, BELIEF, HOPE 
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