^{In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, January 2026.}

When I was a kid, I spent countless hours lying on my bed listening to the radio. I started spending more time listening to the radio again recently, especially my favorite 80s and 90s rock classics. Something about listening to music comforts me, reduces my stress, makes me happy. Some songs that I used to know by heart speak to me in new ways now. Life really does alter how we hear and process things.

One song that has been ruminating in my head lately is called Creep, a song by Stone Temple Pilots – a grunge/alternative rock band popular in the 90’s. The line that replays in my head is “Take time with a wounded hand ’cause it likes to heal. – It likes to steal. – I’m half the man I used to be.”

Scott Weiland, the lead singer of Stone Temple Pilots, died of a drug overdose about ten years ago. I listen to that song now and I hear – whether he intended it or not – a cry for help, a desperation in his voice, an unquenchable yearning. I hear the contrast between wanting to get better and being stuck in a downward vicious cycle.

It reminds me of scripture when Jesus tells his sleeping disciples, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41).

But it’s not Scott Weiland I think about when I hear his voice in my head. I think about how much pressure we – as Christians – put on others, the spiritual damage we can do if we are not careful and intentional about how we live out our faith.

How many times do we expect non-Christians to live according to OUR moral and ethical compass? We want to force a religious legalism down their throats without first introducing them to Jesus.

And when someone does give their life to Christ, how often do we expect them to miraculously live a Christian life without walking beside them, nurturing them, loving them, teaching them – and picking them back up when they fall?

A lot of musicians I grew up listening to died because of drugs. Whatever their reason for taking that first dose, I am willing to bet none of them wanted to stay stuck. I bet each one of them would have broken those chains if they could have. How many times did they try before they finally quit trying?

Take time with a wounded hand ’cause it likes to heal.

Elvis is another one of my childhood favorites who died of a drug overdose. I love his music and movies. I will watch any movie made about him. However, I cannot bring myself to watch Austin Butler’s portrayal of Elvis again. It hit too close to home and hurts too much to even think about.

There is a scene in that movie with Priscilla and Elvis sitting in the back of a town car or limo. They were doing what divorced parents often do; meeting to exchange the kids – in this case, Lisa Marie. She pleads with Elvis to get help. What breaks me is that you can tell that Elvis isn’t going to get help. And the reason is not some superficial, egotistical reason. It’s worse than that. Elvis will not get help because he’s already given up on himself. He believes that he’s beyond help, so why try?

Earlier in the movie, Priscilla tells Elvis that she’s not leaving because of the cheating. She’s leaving because of the drugs. In that same clip, it is obvious that they still love one another, but love is no longer enough. She tells him something to the effect of, “I gave you my life. I have nothing left to give you.” She kisses him goodbye and tells him that he has to let her go.

Those two scenes break me because they take me to very specific moments with Brad. When I was younger, I was hurt because I thought he was choosing his addiction over me. Seeing that clip made me realize that the truth is more devastating than that. Brad hadn’t given up on us. He gave up on himself.

Take time with a wounded hand ’cause it likes to steal.

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with Jesus – with us – with Ordinary Community Church.

In the first chapter of Revelation, John is describing his vision of Jesus. The chapter ends with the angel instructing John to write, “This is the meaning of the mystery of the seven stars you saw in my right hand and the seven gold lampstands: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches” (Revelation 1:20).

I want to read that last part to you again: “The seven lampstands are the seven churches.”

William Barclay points out that the churches are NOT called the light. They are called the stands – the thing upon which the light is set. He writes, “It is not the churches themselves which produce the light; the giver of the light is Christ; and the churches are only the vessels within which the light shines. The light which Christians possess is always borrowed light.”

Let us remember that fact anytime we want to complain that something done in a church is not to our liking. Let us remember that fact any time we want to give up our mission because it gets to be too complicated or when we fail to see instantaneous results or when the results we do see are not what we hoped for or expected.

I am just as guilty as anyone else for feeling this way from time to time. Let’s face it, sometimes it’s easy to forget that we are merely the vessel upon which the light of Christ shines out toward others. In other words, the world does not revolve around us.

I am not the center of the universe. Christ alone is.

In chapter three of Revelation, John writes a message to the church in Philadelphia (not America’s Philadelphia which did not exist as we know it at the time that Revelation was written). The church in Philadelphia, located in modern-day Turkey, is credited with being small but mighty: “I know all the things you do, and I have opened a door for you that no one can close. You have little strength, yet you obeyed my word and did not deny me.” (Revelation 3:8).

The church in Philadelphia was not invincible, though. None of us are. They are promised to be protected in a time of testing and are encouraged to “Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take away your crown” (Revelation 3:11).

Here, Barclay points out that it’s not a matter of someone coming and physically snatching what rightfully belongs to them. It’s not the same as walking to the parking lot and discovering that your car has been stollen. Rather, it’s a warning to stay on the right road so that God does not take their blessing away from them.

If we do not do what we are called to do – if we lose our vision – which must always be Jesus Christ – God will take away our crown and give it to someone else.

Think of it this way, if you are hired to do a certain job and you fail to do it, you should not be surprised if you get fired and the job is given to someone better suited and willing to do the job. Barclay reminds us that “that can happen with the tasks of God. God has a task for each one of us; but it may be that we prove ourselves unfit for the task, and it is given to someone else.”

To be honest, this has always scared me. I am petrified of being found lacking and God giving the task he’s entrusted to me to someone else. I admit that I fear that even now with House2Home San Antonio. I know God has called me to this, but I am terrified of not doing my mentors in Nashville proud, of failing them – and ultimately letting God down.

It should come as no surprise to any of you that OCC is small and financially poor. It is a consistent miracle and testament to God’s faithfulness that anything we set out to do gets done. Still, we do not have the volunteer or monetary help to do what we want to do, what we dream of doing.

In a board meeting a few weeks ago, Tracy summed up our struggles like this: we can either go back to being a traditional (entertain me) type of church or we can be content with being small and possibly having to scale back temporarily. It was a no-brainer for the board. None of us want to go back. In my humble opinion, doing so would be equivalent to fulfilling that frightful warning God gave the church of Philadelphia.

I don’t want to be a consumer church. Do you? If so, you might as well stay home every Sunday and binge watch shows on Netflix. The spiritual results will be about the same and you never have to leave the comfort of your living room.

The fact is, we here at OCC are like that church in Philadelphia – small but mighty.

So, going back to that line from the Stone Temple Pilots song – Take time with a wounded hand because he likes to heal – please indulge me in one more story about Brad.

Brad was not Elvis famous. He wasn’t even Scott Weiland famous, but he had his 5 minutes of minor celebrity. He was a phenomenal guitar player and song writer. Country music fans adored him, so much so that when he was fired from the band he was in, this music business guy wanted to turn him into the next Garth Brooks.

I remember being at one of Brad’s showcases. This guy came up beside me and asked what I thought. I could see dollar signs in his eyes. I told him the truth. I hated it. I said something like, “Brad’s not ready for this. This is going to kill him.”

This guy expected me to be in awe and excited about the promise of fame and fortune. Little did he know, but he got an earful from me that day. He quietly slipped away and never spoke to me again.

I hate that man. I hate admitting it, but, in my eyes, he was pure evil. He had already destroyed a few other promising careers by pushing artists until they broke. I didn’t want him anywhere near Brad.

I am thankful that I cannot remember this guy’s name or face. I know who I could ask. I could even Google enough information about him to find out, but I don’t want to know. As it is, it’s like I hate a fantom, the evil he represented. If I saw his face again, I would have to deal with hating an actual man, someone God loves and whom Jesus died for. Even after all these years, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

Luckily, Brad ended up doing something that even this guy couldn’t work around. He still died, but at least he got to live many more years. He got to experience love again and he got to see most of his grandkids born.

Still, Brad never did heal from his wounds – not on this side of heaven, anyway. But if you ever saw him on stage, you would never know he was hurting. You would have no idea that he was an addict or how much he hated himself. One of his favorite sayings was “I’ve been trying to get out of here since 1967 (the year he was born).”

Take time for a wounded hand.

That man didn’t take time for a wounded Brad. He didn’t care as long as Brad could make him even more money than he already had.

I hate to admit it, but I didn’t take time for him, either. I didn’t know how to at the time, and the thought of what might be on the other side if I did try terrified me. But as the therapist I was seeing at the time of our divorce told me, “I did the best I could for who I was at the time.”

I would like to think that I am a better person now. I hope that I will always strive to be more like Jesus, to make my lampstand for Him more spacious every day.

Today we were supposed to leave the church and go out into our community with bags of meal kits and offers of prayer. We still plan to go out next week. But whether we go somewhere in an official capacity as a church group or whether we interact with strangers in the course of our daily lives, will I – will you – be willing to go out there and do your part, no matter how small, to slow down, be fully present, and to stand tall as the lampstand God created you to be?

Even if OCC is not where we’d hoped we’d be by now? Even if we never become any more than we are right now?

If so, then I encourage you to think about the “wounded hands” in your life. Think about the invisible wounds of others.

Consider the hurts and scars we cannot see, that we may not be able to comprehend or imagine. Our simple demonstrations of love – even just looking someone in the eye and smiling – could be salve on that wound. Our simple actions let others know that they matter, that Jesus loves them. Maybe our simple act of kindness is the thing that keeps that person we encounter from giving up.

Be a proud little lampstand and let the light of Christ shine in and through you!

If you need a little encouragement, I leave you with another song, one most of us are familiar with – one I fully intended for us to sing together but refuse to sing alone on a live stream: This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

Let this be your mantra this week:

Take time with a wounded hand –

by letting your little light shine!