Author: Mark Speed

This blog is written by the parents of Braden Speed. Braden’s voice is intended for his brief life to have purpose although he is no longer here to speak on the topic of teen depression, relationships, and suicide. Our prayer is that his “voice" may serve others and bring readers to understand a purposeful life simply requires a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

Dance Lessons

Mark Speed2 Comments

“I could never do that.” – Braden’s dad

“Dad, it takes two to dance. It can be easy if you’ll just try, so take a lesson.” – Braden

On a recent vacation, I began each day with a cup of coffee while people-watching from our balcony on a beach. Observing other human beings is an odd enjoyment most of us would admit. I’m uncertain as to the reason, but people-watching can sometimes be the best show in town.

Our little family of three had been on our daughter’s high school senior trip that week, but this would be our travel home day. As other early risers began to populate the empty shoreline, I noticed all the regulars. There were the early morning joggers, a group of souvenir peddlers setting up for the day’s tourists, and a yoga group worshiping their meditation time. The “lounge lizard” parents were hurriedly placing towels, caps, or goggles to claim their beach lounges for their families still sound asleep. After all, the early bird gets the umbrella. All these “regular” people were focused on their own little worlds, prepping for how and where they would invest their vacation days and dollars.

I was dreading the airport experience and the inevitable return to real life. I’ve always treasured vacation family time and as a dad with our last child soon leaving for adulthood, I often wish we had a slow motion button on life. Then, I noticed something I’d not seen all week long. The strange scene drew my attention and compelled me to stand and just stare. A man and woman were strolling together (staggering more like) alongside the gently rolling surf. Over the next few minutes, I was a one man audience to this awkward yet beautifully rhythmic dance. A performance I’d never seen or taken time to notice, yet this time I couldn’t look away. The memory remains etched in my mind.

The gentleman was walking to the right and slightly ahead of the woman. After four or five steps, he would stop, look back, and wait for her to join him. The lady was likely his spouse but it could have been his sister, or even a friend. She was severely impaired and struggling with each small step, aided by a walking stick in her left hand. The cane had been rigged to prevent sinking into the powdery beach sand. Feeling like a voyeur in this intimate moment, I watched the strangers from the time they came into view until they disappeared into the distance.

Walk. Stop. Wait…

Walk. Stop. Wait…

Walk. Stop. Wait.

This awkward, painful, beautifully choreographed dance had no music, but the rhythm was detectable in the hearts of these two dancers. As a distant observer, I could feel its beat from two hundred yards away. The man never once missed a single step… and he was smiling the whole time.

As I stood completely mesmerized, I wondered why such an awkward and painful dance could be so beautiful. Returning to my chair, it slowly began to make sense. This man’s unselfishness stood out starkly against those around him, including myself, who were self-absorbed. One part of me had wanted to wake my family, but the other half didn’t want them to see this dance. They would certainly want me to learn its steps, and I’m a terrible dancer. I could never be so patient, kind, or unselfish… or could I?

I grew up water and snow skiing. Doing it from such an early age, it’s always been easy and natural. I tried teaching my family and Braden caught on pretty easily as a skateboarder. His sister, Caitlin is a gifted dancer and was also a quick study. My wife Cathy however, struggled the most.  All my explanations only went so far, and I still recall letting her go from my arms while helplessly watching her descend the treacherous bunny slope. Her speed steadily increased with no sign of braking.  I repeatedly yelled, “Pizza slice!!”. Unfortunately, she only stopped when she struck a sign which read in bright red letters, “SLOW DOWN!”.

After just one lesson with a capable instructor, Cathy was able to navigate and somewhat enjoy skiing. I asked her what finally made the difference and she replied, “You forgot to tell me the most important thing… Don’t be distracted by your skis. Just focus on where you want to go”. 

Readers: Life is a little like dancing, skiing, or anything we pursue improving. They can seem difficult until we choose to learn from our failures and remaining focused on where we want to go. The simplicity of this life dance only requires three basic steps, yet many of us find them difficult to take. The steps are: 1) placing ourselves in the shoes of those who are struggling; 2) caring enough to walk selflessly together; and 3) most importantly, staying the course.

This way of living not only helps the dancers, but those who want to learn the steps.

PRAYER: Jesus, You came to this world to show us what true humility looks like. Thank You for Your kindness and grace. Help us to learn from Your example and through lessons You reveal in our lives. May our focus be on where we’re going rather than where we’re struggling, and our purpose be Your glory. Amen.


“Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too. You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2‬:‭4‬-‭5‬ ‭

“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.”
‭‭1 John‬ ‭3‬:‭16‬‬‬

Being Faithful

Mark Speed2 Comments

“Be faithful for those who are faithless.” – Braden

“I’m still learning. Lord, keep teaching.” – Braden’s dad

On a bench in the middle of a small country church, sat a father who just lost everything. At least to him, it felt so. A wave of tragedy had struck with such enormity that his home had been obliterated, leaving only the struggling survivors. The words spoken by the minister that Sunday morning were garbled and yet the man struggled to listen. The message seemed distantly hopeful, but far beyond reach. He was completely alone with only the breath still left in his lungs. Then the minister said something that man will never forget. “I want you all to meet a man who is sitting here with us today. I’m not sure how he dragged himself here because he probably should have stayed home. This man is feeling completely lost and without any sign of hope. I want those of you around him to place your hands on him and to pray over him”.

I’ve taken medicine to make things feel better. I’ve tried counseling and countless other means of help. Nothing has ever felt more healing than the hands of those people around my shoulders that day. After their prayer, I looked up to discover the entire congregation gathered with their hands placed on one another’s shoulders, like a network of hearts connecting to mine. Their energy filled a depleted battery and to this day I draw upon that experience as a resource for hope offered nowhere else. Before that November morning in 2018, I’d never been prayed over in public. I had heard of it and even seen a few such occasions, but felt embarrassed for the person. Like begging for help on a public street corner. They must be pitiful. How could someone fall so far that they would need complete strangers to pray over them.

Recently, our church unexpectedly lost its pastor. The church he founded 25 years earlier was thriving and growing. He and his family remain solidly part of this church and in our hearts, but we are hurting. In one moment, a vibrant church was struck by tragedy without any warning. The feelings seem too familiar. Today’s message was titled, “The Lord is Faithful”. How God is always there even when we can’t see Him. As I thought about those words, they seemed overused. I’d heard the phrase all my life. Still, as I read them today on the digital display, they kept ringing in my ears… “the Lord is faithful.” Faithful. Faithful? I’m not sure I believe this. Doesn’t that mean God eventually comes through with our requests every time? He certainly hasn’t done that for us.

We had left our daughter at home alone because she was unable to join us at this very church service. This has now become a common occurrence as she battles a chronic health condition, still without answers. This storm remains with us while the looming cloud approaches of yet another anniversary of her brother’s death. It’s certainly not for a lack of prayers or the awareness that the Bible says God is faithful. Still, it begs the question. Is He, really?

Maybe it means He’s faithful to someone else. He certainly hasn’t been showing signs to us nor many of the other families who we’ve come to know. They’re still are dealing with storms beyond anything most of us could fathom. Still, those words kept ringing in my ears. He is FAITHFUL.

At the end of the sermon, the preacher said he wanted to do something unusual. He asked for anyone in the congregation who was facing a storm to simply stand. I found myself thinking, “How awkward for someone. How embarrassing.” Yes, the criteria applied to the guy sitting in my chair, but no one needed to know about the storms in my home. Pride had me in a locked and seated position. Then to my right, my wife slowly began to stand. The speaker then asked for anyone still seated to stand and to place their arms around those who had risen…. and to pray together. Suddenly, as I stood to embrace my wife, we both were embraced by others. Complete strangers who not only prayed but wept with us, almost like they felt our pain.

Suddenly, the words I’d heard all my life about God made more sense. These who stood with us were the faith-filled. Like those strangers who had formed a network of hearts in that small country church around this man seven years earlier… they were the Faith-full. The healing and hope provided through those strangers who I’m confident had survived storms of their own, stood ready, willing, and wanting to encourage us through ours.

“The Lord IS faithful” took on a whole new meaning for me today. I hope such faithfulness will mark my life going forward. We need others who are faithful to surround us, but more importantly (and likely more healing) we need to be the faith-full to others.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for being faithful and for those around us who are faith-full. You often show us hope through others who reflect Jesus to us in this world. May we acknowledge these people and serve as the faith-full to those who are just barely surviving their own storms.

“When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God.” – Isaac 43:2

Gods and Idols

Mark Speed2 Comments

“Choose your worship wisely for there is only One worthy.” – Paul (paraphrase)

This has proven to be the most difficult writing since we lost our son, now seven years ago. Still, remaining true to the purpose of this undertaking, truth and transparency are vitally important to others still hurting and searching for answers. Through our loss, we remain convinced the only true God, discussed here can provide lasting fulfillment and healing.

I began the following post early last Sunday and later that morning, the preacher spoke on a similar topic. When the apostle, Paul first entered Athens to share his testimony, he noticed the streets were lined with sculptures of gods and idols. Ironically, those statues had been built by the people he was there to tell about his God. The one who had radically changed his own life.

Just two days after I had begun writing this post, our church shared devastating news involving the pastor, whom we love and call our friend. This message had suddenly become less coincidence than providence. Although the news at church was shocking, extremely painful, and damaging, it has become much too familiar. Specific details, however are not what is needed today. The story is far less important than its moral.

Grief is a palette of emotions. Ours is currently a blend of sadness and anger. Tomorrow, I’m sure will be mixed with something else. Hopefully, a little more compassion. In the days ahead, our family’s prayer is that today’s sadness will eventually be shaded by forgiveness.

Let’s face it, although many people deny the existence of God, we’re all worshippers.

The Bible tells the ancient story of a community of foolish Israelites who were lost for 40 years wondering in the wilderness. We’ve read about their repeated habit of creating man-made idols whenever they yearned for something to fulfill their needs. As their respected leader, many of those people probably idolized Moses. They became anxious when he left them even briefly. With neither Moses nor God visible, their faith also vanished.

Desperately needing something to fill their emptiness, they destroyed their blessings and formed them into what I call “little ‘g’ gods”. They chose to believe those man-made objects could somehow provide what they were missing. Ironically, such idols are as empty as the people who built them. Being impatient, selfish, and short-sighted, those Israelites were unwilling to simply trust, listen, and wait for God’s timing. Wow, that sounds too familiar.

Most readers of this famous story consider those Israelites idiots because God was clearly showing them signs of His presence and power throughout their journey. I can imagine God saying, “Hey, I just parted the ocean, isn’t that enough proof? How about this pillar of clouds to lead you, or the food delivered daily, dropped straight from the sky?” I once pridefully thought I would have been different but the sad truth is, without seeing God face-to-face, I would have been an idol-builder just like them. Heck, I probably would have been a sculptor.

What amazes me though, is even knowing how weak and selfish we are, God always remains ready and willing to forgive. That’s the “amazing grace” we sing about. He simply seeks an unconditional trust relationship without small print exclusions or exceptions. This intimate relationship is the only “worship” He seeks and which simultaneously fills our human longing. Those Israelites could never put such a God on a pedestal or inside a box. He’s too big. This God is The Creator, The Counselor, and The Savior, clearly evident yet only seen when we stop building or buying worthless idols.

When Paul had a personal experience with this God, it turned his life downside – up. He had been killing believers, yet in an instant, he became willing to die to save them. I’m certainly no apostle, but we do share some common ground. Each day of this life will be used to build up the “big ‘G’ God” I met seven years ago. He’s the One who doesn’t lead me to destroy my blessings but rather to count them… among those are my family. More lasting however is grace, hope, wisdom, love, peace, assurance, forgiveness, and eternal life.

In retrospect, when Paul noticed all those idols on the streets of Athens, might he have blindly looked past the one reflected in the storefront windows of himself? Yes, his legacy was world-changing, but he was just a man, passionately telling others about what God had done in his life. Over my years of company relocations and church shopping, I’ve come to learn we should never choose any human as our idol. More likely than not, most are good hearted and well intentioned. However, they all have one thing in common. They aren’t God.

Reader: You may have been distracted or even damaged by some idols you’ve chosen. If you feel empty and in need of a god worthy of worship, I can personally recommend the One who saved my life.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank You for patience in our foolish ways. We worship the wrong gods which are all around us and yet You wait patiently for each one of us. We and thousands of others are praying for those harmed by recent events. Instead of reflecting ourselves, may we show others the image of God that Jesus showed to us. It’s in His name we pray. Amen


‭‭“You must not have any other god but me.” Exodus‬ ‭20‬:‭3‬ ‭‬‬

Unstuck

Mark Speed5 Comments

“Pop, I’m so glad you finally accepted the invitation… Welcome HOME!” – Braden

“I’m going to be in heaven with you!” – Braden’s Pop

Reader: There have been occasions when I’ve wanted to share about our dad’s life, but I respected his wishes for privacy. Now that he’s gone, perhaps the time is right. I’ve tried to condense these words while not diminishing their value. I’ve done my best and that’s all my father ever asked.

Before our childhood home vanished from time and decay, it stood in a cotton field on the South Plains of Texas. Our family recently gathered near that home last week to say goodbye to our dad, Merlin Speed. On August 27, 2025, their wedding anniversary reunion became a celebration of 70 years of marriage, a sad goodbye, and a tribute to our father’s life.

We will all likely occupy multiple houses over a lifetime, but to most people, “home” is considered that of our childhood. Those formative years serve as a lens on our worldview and can serve as a helpful source to later draw upon if our home was healthy. However, too often the lens is distorted by trauma, dysfunction, or abandonment. That was the case with my dad.

Dad began life in a converted chicken pen with no electric power and no plumbing. Their family moved within a few years, but the address changed more frequently than the calendar. He certainly wasn’t blessed with the kind of childhood home he would dedicate his life to providing. Although our home wasn’t fancy, I felt blessed. In dad’s passing, we aren’t as mournful as we are thankful.

The past few days have been full of remembrances. Memory Lane is so congested with stories, it’s difficult to enumerate them much less do justice in their telling. One sticks in my mind that now seems timely to share.

Farm kids learn best by watching and doing. We did a lot of both. After every rain storm, the routine was to jump in dad’s truck to go “check the farms”. It was less a matter of looking at the rain soaked fields than feeling a sense of hope for a successful harvest. On these crop tours, dad often considered it necessary to leave the pavement and venture down ungraded county roads or directly into the muddy cotton fields. Both options met with impassable paths only suitable for tractors or road-maintainers. Such roads were certainly not made for a Ford F150 pickup truck.

I watched in fear as his steering wheel would begin turning from a reasonably navigable road into a treacherous mud field. We all were thinking but never saying, “Why?” With few exceptions, we would become stuck to the bumpers with the tires spinning futilely in the red mud. Then, we’d watch in awe as dad gunned the engine forward and reverse, holding his mouth just right, occasionally using some choice words, and finally gaining traction. First it would move inches, then a few feet, and finally we’d be unstuck, able to continue the tour.

His truck never once became so buried that dad couldn’t clear it with sheer determination, effort, and inventiveness. He never recruited nor accepted help. Watching him do this enough times, I learned the unstuck skill and even recall my own son’s amazed admiration when I freed us from a mud slick while shooting guns on the outskirts of Prosper. A street sign now marks that spot at the intersection of Braden Lane and Legacy Boulevard.

I always respected dad for his abilities to “fix” broken things and his resilience in overcoming his childhood experiences. However, success in overcoming extreme hardship can have a devastating side effect called self-reliance. Much of his life, he leaned entirely on his own strength, abilities, and knowledge. At least he thought so. Fortunately, many friends, neighbors, and family saw hope and potential in our dad. Along with our faith-filled mother, an unknown number of others refused to leave him stuck. While he was spinning, they were praying.

For years, my own prayer was that God would speak to dad in words only he could understand. We’d all encouraged his acceptance of Jesus’ invitations, but pride is a thief and it stole a lot of his life. On October 22, 2023,, I received an unexpected but overdue call. I can’t recall the exact time but will never forget dad’s words. “Son, I woke up this morning and heard a message I can’t even explain. The words weren’t new, but their meaning was clearer than ever. It was like someone speaking directly to me”. Through his tears my dad rarely revealed, I heard him say, “Son, I’m going to be in heaven with you!”

The conviction in his testimony was certain and I’m fully convinced my father had finally been freed. He spoke of only one regret in having remained “stuck” so long in his pride. It had taken our father all his life to finally become unstuck, but he didn’t do it by effort. He had surrendered. Many had extended a hand to pull or push him through, but ironically, it was in giving up that finally moved him forward.

Our father’s view had finally become cleared from the distorted lens he’d worn so long and he was finally able to see Jesus. I’d give anything to have been there to witness their meeting, but I’m joyful in knowing our son watched it. In awe, I can imagine him reunited with his Pop who had finally become unstuck.

Pop and Braden

Reader: If this story rings familiar, we pray Jesus’ standing invitation is one you’ll consider accepting. Our dad’s story is testament to the fact that it’s never too late. A relationship is all He seeks and it’s completely free. Praying for those stuck today.

Out of the Blue

Mark Speed8 Comments

“Look for me wherever you go. I’ll show up once in awhile, out of the blue.” – Braden

I thought the dreams were gone, only to return now with more frequency. Once again, our son is right next to me, indescribably real. So real, I now refer to them as “meetings”. Usually he’s still a teen, and other times again that beautiful little boy, his uniquely brilliant smile gleaming. During a few of our meetings he’s grown older. A handsome young man we never had the blessing to know. Each dream version of our son is different, yet each meeting the same. For a brief vanishing moment, I can touch him and tell him how I miss him. These dreams are a love/hate thing I equally desire yet dread. Something only another parent could fathom.

These particular dreams began happening seven years ago and eventually stopped. Lately, they’ve resumed and in our most recent meeting, I told him about our nightmare. How we thought he had died. About the impact of his absence on each one of us. How faith grew and changed his dad’s perspective on God, and how that God had turned dark into day. In this dream, Braden didn’t say a word, but his eyes were flooded with silent tears. I’m not sure if they were regret or gratitude. Maybe both. Then as suddenly as he had appeared, reality faded into view as my eyes opened and he wasn’t there. Robbed again by another cruel dream. I’m beginning to think these will be part of my remaining days. Like a soldier returning home safely from war, yet never again the same.

I know friends who have lost siblings, parents, and sadly too many who have lost a child. They are comforted to see loved ones in everyday places and various forms. Some are seen in a hummingbird in the backyard. Some are butterflies lighting on a hand and lingering longer than normal. Others feel their loved one in the lyrics of a favorite song. I can relate to each and believe they are real. Mine happen when I’m not looking for him and in the most random moments. This sounds weird but it’s true. He appears to me through other kids.

I recently saw him on a plane. He was playing a video game and frustrated each time he lost. During the four hour flight he said nothing and seemed lost in his world of technology. Later in a cafe, I caught a glimpse of him at a crowded table. His hairstyle was unkempt and he seemed just a little uncomfortable though the other kids at his table looked confident and sure. In such moments, the father in me would love to go talk with that kid and assure him life will be different someday and to just hang in there.

Away on vacations, we often meet other families. This week we met a young father swimming with his new baby girl. He introduced himself and our conversation moved to Caitlin and her plans for the future. As often happens, the inevitable question arose. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?” I always feel that sting of pain and silently listen for her response, knowing she hasn’t got an easy reply. Her answer has always been a yes, but for the first time I heard her say, “No”. I understood, but the response rang in my ears. This young dad was probably having the very best day of his life, certainly not deserving it to be dampened needlessly.

Later, I assured Caitlin that she had done the right thing, knowing that she certainly did have a brother. When I’m asked if we have other children, I have the same awkward hesitation. As I thought more about it, I believe our son is there in such uncomfortable moments. This time I hadn’t seen him in this child, but Braden was absolutely in words that fell out of my mouth. As the dad gently guided his tiny baby girl, I could see her future. She’d have trials and successes they never could expect in life. I’m confident she’ll eventually become a strong swimmer and certainly cherished by her parents. I looked this proud young father in the eyes and out of the blue, Braden spoke.

“Enjoy each and every moment. Trust me, you’ll never regret the time spent with your child”.

To parents: Time is precious. Invest it well.

Questions Without Answers

Mark Speed8 Comments

“ Why!” – Braden’s dad

“If you aren’t getting the right answer, maybe you’re asking the wrong question.” – Braden

This just couldn’t be true.

A social media post on July Fourth began, “Prayers for the kids lost in the Guadeloupe River flood last night”. Scrolling to find similar mentions, I found nothing and hoped it was just a fake story. It wasn’t. The national news quickly had it on every outlet. A story impossible to believe yet too real to ignore. Thus far, around 50 people are either lost or drowned. Many were children attending a Christian youth camp still not found. A large number of fatalities have been confirmed and the numbers will rise. Tragedies like these once felt distant, but they now hit close to home.

Several years ago, I handled accident claims in the Hill Country. Many Texans consider this part of the state to be “God’s country”, but I know firsthand that its beauty can mask the dangers and sometimes, tragedy. On many occasions, I had the difficult job of meeting personally with people who had experienced the loss of family members and too often their own children. Some were drowned in high water crossings. Others were survivors of their elderly parent(s), lost to car accidents on narrow winding roads. One of my saddest cases involved a teenager who had been driving her little brother to a Christian camp outside Marble Falls when she missed a sharp curve and went over an embankment into a deep canyon. Both kids were gone instantly. Their parents met with me, but neither said a word. Other stories were too disturbing to share, but I recall each one. The eyes of every parent contained the same despair, but there was something else behind their shocked stares. Confusion. They all had the same unanswerable question. Why would a loving God allow this to happen?

Watching such horrors happening to others, I still remember thinking, how do these people continue to even breathe? How might I deal with such devastation if it happened to my family? I could never have imagined at the time that one day I’d look down and see the shoes of those devastated parents on my feet. For several years following our loss, I saw in my mirror that same blank stare. Behind my eyes, the same impossible question. Why!

This weekend, Cathy and I have talked together about the question God has heard a billion times. Specifically, how could He allow such tragedy to happen even to innocent children? They had likely gone to bed after singing Kum ba Yah, making s’mores, and giggling themselves to sleep. For no reason we can fathom, in an instant their innocent dreams turned into nightmares and death.

Honestly, events like these lead me wonder if there’s someone out there, finally ready to crack open the door to Jesus who will now slam it shut. Even some of the faithful directly impacted by this tragedy will do just that. Cathy knows the Bible better than most and is especially insightful on spiritual things. I asked her about it, needing something more than, “We just won’t know until we get to Heaven.” Her reply was pretty much the same, though. “We’ll never fully understand God’s thinking with our human mind”. Although I hated the answer, she was right.

With no satisfactory answer possible, maybe instead of asking God this question, we should be asking ourselves a different one, which can and should be answered in every life…

“When bad things happen to good people, how should we respond? There are only two options: Draw towards God or turn away from Him. This question isn’t one we ask of Him but one He asks each of us. It’s a question that certainly begs an answer.

When we surrender our lives to God, the deal doesn’t come with an exemption from the sorrows of this fallen earthly world. Those are outside our control. He does however provide His promises, that He will never leave us nor forsake us. That He is with us in the storm. He had us write down His promises for the times we’ll need reminding, like this weekend after a raging Texas flood. None of these promises are assurance of a trouble free existence, though. In fact we’re guaranteed to have sorrows and trials in this world. His Word is there to assure us that even through the valleys of death, He is always with us every step of the way. Most importantly, His promises aren’t subject to temporary conditions, be they weather or any other. They’re eternal.

When flood waters recede, buildings will be rebuilt and lives will begin healing. Some will continually ask the futile Why question and possibly never resurface from the storm. Others will look to God’s promises and rise above the surface to become stronger than they ever thought possible. I’m confident the new homes God has been preparing well ahead of time will be occupied by the sweet souls of God’s children. Those left behind will have opportunities to serve as bold witnesses to what God can do with storms when we keep our eyes on Him.

Prayer for the lost (and found): Heavenly Father, we can never understand the vastness of Your mind by using the ones You gave us. In the aftermath of devastating storms in this life, help us reach up for Your hand so we won’t go under. For these families, we pray for comfort, provision, protection, and purpose to arise out of such senseless tragedy. Only You can heal such hurts. Thank You for assurance through the promise of peace beyond understanding and a hope for tomorrow with You. Amen

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” – John 14:27

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. – Phillippians 4:6-7

I Give You My Word

Mark Speed11 Comments
Caitlin and principal Dustin Toth

“Our Heavenly Father, holy is Your name. Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven, but if it goes my way, I promise to do anything You ask.” – Braden’s dad

“When you feel no hope… no help, God is always with you. He gave you His Word.” – Braden

Have you ever experienced something so real yet indescribable that you were hesitant to talk about it? Concerned that skeptics might assume it to be the result of a vivid imagination, embellishment, or lucky coincidence, should such stories be left untold? My men’s group at church is in a series titled, “Stepping Out of the Boat”, based on Peter’s experience walking on water in faith. I agree with the importance of stepping out of our comfort zones. Today, I’m willing to at least try. The potential gain in sharing this story is worth any risk.

Our daughter, Caitlin graduated high school this past week. Eighteen years ago, around 3am on the morning before Christmas 2006, Cathy realized our unborn baby girl had completely stopped moving inside her. Cathy rushed to the hospital and once the sitter arrived, I trailed behind. Speeding down Grand Parkway well over 100mph while gripping the steering wheel, I pled aloud through fear and tears. “God, please, PLEASE just let our baby live. If You will, I promise to tell others about what You did… just please let her live!” Fortunately, the doctors detected a weak heartbeat. Within minutes, God delivered a tiny giant-sized miracle. Since that pre-dawn negotiation with God, I’ve kept my promise by sharing the story at every opportunity, including this one.

Now, eighteen years later, I’ve found myself offering similar proposals to God on three different occasions. Each was another offer of compromise on various freeways across Texas. Each fearful conversation came from a cotton-dry mouth, not knowing whether the destination would offer a miracle or tragedy.

The second drive occurred nearly 12 years later, following an intelligible call I received from my wife. She had arrived home and found our son’s note taped to his bedroom door warning her not to enter. The fear I felt on that freeway drive was palpable, yet my words were somehow familiar. Again I was praying aloud, this time for our son. “God, please, PLEASE just let our boy live. If You will, I promise to tell others about what You did… just please let him live!”. God didn’t deliver a miracle that October afternoon, but we’ve tried to encourage others about how God sustains through even the worst this life can offer. I’ll be brutally honest though: Lately, I’ve begun to feel slighted. Where is God and why hasn’t He come through… after all, that was the deal… wasn’t it?

For almost three years now, Caitlin has battled a chronic health condition with a long list of symptoms including random fainting, severe headaches/migraines, and extreme and chronic nausea. After weeks of rapid weight loss, we resorted to hospitalization and a feeding tube while continuing to explore ways to help her. On the Monday morning of her admittance to Dallas Childrens Memorial Hospital, I found myself once again on a freeway traveling at breakneck speed, pleading aloud with God. By now, the words were like lyrics to a bad song I’d heard too many times. These deja vu moments were becoming a repeated nightmare. WHY?

Once more I cried out the same phrase, almost verbatim. “God, if You will let our baby live, I will tell others about You”. This time though, it wasn’t a one-way conversation. I heard not only my weak-hearted promise, but a distinct inaudible response. It wasn’t an answer, but a question: “What if my plans are different than yours? What will you do with me then?” During my previous drives, I had to hold the steering wheel tightly to keep from swerving off the road. This time, hearing God’s response was like grabbing a live wire. Could it be that my faith was conditioned upon getting my way instead of life according to God’s plans? And how had “my way” worked out thus far? Not so good.

The next part of this story is where a skeptic might question its validity. After God’s question to me that morning, He continued speaking through the following experiences. I’ll try to tell them here, but I can’t explain them other than they were literally God’s words. I had stopped speaking and finally began to listen.

God’s Words

Before leaving our home earlier that morning, my daily Bible verse had been the following from the 23rd Psalm:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows”.

These words had been timely, but I considered them a simple coincidence. Our family could certainly relate with the “death/valley” reference, but I never understood the strange reference to some kind of table in front of my enemies. I was hurrying and on the run to the hospital. That was just a daily feel-good scripture and there was no time to slowly take in what it was telling me.

I will admit to weakness in quoting the Bible and hope God understands this shortcoming. If He really needs to say something important, I’ve assumed He would let me know somehow. On my drive to the hospital that morning, nearing the halfway point, phrases from the Bible began coming visually into my mind. The following verse came into view as clear as a heads-up windshield display:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds.

Amazed at this perfectly timed yet unmemorized response from God’s Word, I yelled out loudly (and angrily), “Are You KIDDING ME? I’m supposed to be happy about this!!! That makes no sense whatsoever. I’ve trusted you and all we get is nothing in return. I’m just tired of this. How is joy even possible right now!!!!!??”

As those angry words left my mouth, the following text appeared in front of me, replacing the previous ones. However, these words were in bright red:

“Because I am with you THROUGH these valleys. Know that I have prepared a TABLE for you .“

Inexplicably, my terror became peace. My fury became gratefulness. How is such a thing even possible? As I neared the hospital, tears of joy, of all things began streaming down my face. When I met my family, I delivered to them the same hope and assurance God had just handed to me. They both looked at me like I might be crazy, but I also sensed relief and hope in their own eyes. When they asked about what had happened, my response was simple. “God spoke today and made it clear that we shouldn’t be afraid. We’re not going into these valleys, but THROUGH them. The Enemy is watching us the whole time, knowing God is more powerful than he is… and God is on our side. He also told me that He has already prepared us seats at His Table, so it doesn’t matter at all when we arrive. Our reservations are confirmed”.

Just two days later, I received yet another call. It came from a very special friend who had been visiting the girls while Caitlin was in recovery. The caller was the same friend who had delivered to me the tragic news about our son’s passing during my frantic freeway drive seven years earlier. She said the same words. “Mark…… I promised I wasn’t going to cry, but…”

Cathy’s ability to cope with everything had reached an end and her body had just shut down. Our friend informed me that my wife had been taken from Childrens Memorial to the ER at another hospital. Again, those same garbled words: “Get here as soon as possible”. Both of my remaining family members were now in crisis, but here’s the unbelievable part. On this drive, I remembered the words God had given me days earlier. Our conversation this time was different. It was two-way. As He counseled me with His Words, I was thanking Him for such trials as these. I know. Unbelievable. But true.

Thankfully, all came through that week safely, but I learned more in those few days than in all my years about how God can work in difficulty if we will shut up, slow down, and listen. We have a new sense of assurance and calm we never thought possible. That next morning, I rolled over and checked my daily scripture. This time, the words were again from the 23rd Psalm. Again, perfectly timed BUT these words were confirming peace after such trials:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.”

Instead of shrugging it off as coincidence, I looked up and said aloud, “Are You kidding me?” I wasn’t yelling, though. Instead, I was smiling through tears and I am confident God was smiling back. Because, that’s the kind of God He is.

Within days of this writing, our miracle baby girl walked across the stage, graduating along with her 2025 high school class. She remains determined and strong, but her fight continues and parental stress remains a very real thing. However, we are encouraged and praying the reader will be. We’ve recently learned of others around us who are facing their own unexpected valleys. Our family is praying for their physical healing, yet more importantly that they will trust in God’s plans which are perfect. The peace and assurance He promises never fails. After all, He gave us His Word.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank You for Your patience with our impatience, understanding in our confusion, and that You give us Your Word. Though difficult to face, thank You for trials. They serve to test and strengthen our faith. Mostly, thank You that even in the presence of our Enemy, You have reserved for us a seat at Your Table. Amen

“So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4‬:‭18

Fruitful Trees

Mark Speed10 Comments

“I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.”
‭‭John‬ ‭15‬:‭1‬-‭2‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Raised on a farm in west Texas, there weren’t a lot of trees. The sandy soil was used primarily to grow cotton, grass feed, corn, and other commodities to sell. The few trees I recall weren’t planted for aesthetics but for their fruit. Of all things strange, grape vineyards in Texas now compete in number with cotton farms. Fruit trees also thrive in sand. A few years ago, our parents’ peach trees yielded a crop so plentiful, they had to build wooden supports to prevent the limbs from snapping.

After leaving west Texas to start a family and in pursuit of career advancement my work required a series of moves. Each re-location meant buying or building another home in a neighborhood where we could connect with other younger families. These new neighborhoods were mostly barren of trees with the exception of a matching pair required by HOA deed restrictions. These weren’t huge oaks or pine trees but the “Rather Scraggly” variety. Every front yard had the identical pair of “trees”, not so much planted as installed. These were put in solely for appearance although decades later they would serve as shade for empty-nesters.

We’re now approaching our own empty-nest phase with no more company relocations in sight. The two Scraggly saplings first planted in our yard by the original owners have now become fully grown, and their shade is cool and peaceful. However, left untouched for years they now require more attention and work to maintain. Let’s just say I’ve gained a clearer understanding as to why they named one season “Fall”.

As I write this, our daughter is set to graduate high school within just a few days. She has also lived with a major chronic health condition which has worsened and being unable to “fix” things for her has been the second most difficult thing this parent has yet to experience. It’s ironic how a description of the suburban life cycle of trees mirrors the raising of two such beautiful souls . But that’s a story too difficult to write today. God’s will remains our prayer and we can’t thank you enough for yours. Blessings and prayers from ours.

Last spring, it was time to finally do some maintenance on our two shade trees. Although they looked just fine from the street, there were some large branches needing attention. I put off the work because the limbs had been overgrown for years and would require a ladder, ropes, sawing, breaking down, bundling, and hauling. I rarely pay a helper, but some jobs are just too big and breaking my neck wouldn’t help pay the bills. Still, I pridefully gave it my best shot. While doing this back breaking tree project, a well known chapter from the Bible just kept popping into my mind.

A book in the Bible called “John” is one I’ve always found relatable, probably because of a farming background. Jesus was a brilliant man and storyteller. In the fifteenth chapter, the writer shares Jesus’ story about branches, vines, pruning, and a gardener. He describes people as branches who rely upon him as the vine. He describes God as the gardener, choosing what to completely cut off and what to cut back for growth. He finally talks about branches either producing fruit or just existing.

For days, as I climbed around the upper reaches of those two shade trees, I considered my own life and whether I’m a branch deserving of removal or one in need of some pruning. The two operations look similar but have very different purposes. If the “gardener” chose to prune me instead of removing me entirely, which parts would be snipped to allow something useful in its place? Honestly, some of my diseased branches had been left far too long and become more trunk than twig. Things like fear, anger, pride, selfishness, control, and lately a new budding shoot called doubt.

Most of these aren’t fatal although a few can be. If some or all of them were pruned back, what might begin to grow in their place? Should this trimming job be mine or the gardener’s? Having tried unsuccessfully too many times to rely on my own ability, I’ve learned such a job is best left to the expert. Since He is its creator, He knows far better how it can be helped to thrive. Might I need to call in a helper and do this pruning job together?

To me, Jesus is saying if we will just ask for His help with the removal process, the re-growth won’t just be a replica of the original, but something brand new which can produce beneficial fruit like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Like those west Texas peach tree branches requiring a 2X4 for support, such fruit would far outweigh empty branches.

A job of this size certainly won’t be easy and today it seems futile. Still, healthy and lasting growth requires time, diligence, nourishment, faith, and humility to accept necessary help from the Gardner’s hand. Wouldn’t such a tree be beautiful to see and its fruit beneficial to life!

Prayer: Heavenly Father, may Your will be done rather than ours. At times, the two seem to be vastly different. Honestly, it’s difficult to remain faithful when we aren’t seeing things Your way and there are days we just can’t keep going alone. This is one of those days. So we seek the help You have promised and been faithful to provide. We continue to trust. May the painful pruning You are doing in us as branches living in You serve as fruit someone else may need. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” – James 1: 2-3

God’s Back

Mark SpeedLeave a comment

Since I can recall, our mother has risen each morning, often ahead of the sun to spend time alone with God. Rarely has she missed a single day. Mom has a small reading room in their home, and anytime I visit and roll out of bed early enough, I can count on seeing a light emitting from under her door. Without going in, I know what she’s doing and it always inspires and gives me a sense of peace for some reason. I have come to believe there isn’t a better way to greet each new day than a talk with God and a chance for Him to talk with me. As often happens, children emulate what they see their parents doing. Not always, but in most cases this is a good thing.

Several years ago, after losing our son I began waking at ridiculously early hours from a bad dream or futile effort to sleep at all. I began following the example I’d seen by spending one-on-one time with God in those anxious hours. As with most habits, if something is found helpful for coping with difficulty, I tend to fall into it. Although many such habits can become unhealthy, this one has been life changing.

This one-on-one time usually begins with a short scripture from the Bible app. The day’s message pops up first, then a brief video clip providing some context and life application, followed with a prayer. Often, something completely unexpected yet useful is revealed in the process. I guess God best understands what we need and opening His word allows the opportunity for it to happen. Last week, I stumbled upon such a message through a short reference in the Old Testament.

In Exodus, Moses is having his own time with God on a mountaintop. Interestingly, it was very early in the morning and with all he had going on I bet he hadn’t slept much the night before either. Caught up in the moment, Moses asks God to reveal His face. You would think a meeting with the Creator of all things would be enough, but Moses wanted to get even closer. God responds to this request in an unusual way, and though hearing this story all my life, I had never made a subtle connection before happening upon it once again that morning.

God tells Moses that He will pass before him but won’t show His face. However, He allows Moses to see His back. That’s always seemed odd to me. Here is the passage:

Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name, ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But”, he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live”. And the Lord said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.” –Exodus 33: 18-23

Having heard this story since childhood, I never understood why God would only let someone see His back. And why would God be telling Moses to stand in the cleft of a rock? What would God’s back even look like? Then I re-read the same scripture again, but this time capitalizing the “R”. As in the Rock.

Could it be possible that 2000 years before God came to Earth in human form, He was already telling Moses what we now call the Good News? Jesus passed near mankind for only a brief few years. If we will stand upon our faith in this Rock, we will be protected from the effects of this world. Only after God’s hand (Jesus) was taken away, could mankind fully realize the sacrifice made for us, and this was most evident in the scars on His back. No, we aren’t able to see God’s face in this world, but can be assured of seeing it in the next.

I’m certainly no Bible scholar and much of the Old Testament has always seemed dry, but for some reason that morning, these words stood off the page, revealing something completley new. That’s the way God works. Though something has been there all along, we too often don’t slow down and take the time to see it. To me, it’s like a lot of other things such as Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, etc. These happen every year, but until not that long ago, they were just another holiday. Each has now become far more meaningful as I’ve come to learn what they represent.

Easter serves as a reminder that God came to confirm His love for us by sacrificing Himself in our place. Most importantly, He showed Himself to be more powerful than even death, so that we may have eternal life if we simply accept the offer. Now, that’s something to celebrate!

Easter Prayer: God, thank you for coming into this world through Jesus. Thank you for offering Yourself as the perfect sacrifice we did not deserve. Thank You for enduring our punishment and for reminding us that if we hope to ever to look upon Your face, we must first see Your back. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.””
‭‭John‬ ‭16‬:‭33‬ ‭

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the Rock.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7‬:‭24‬ ‭