Do the sheep know that the dogs are there to protect them? Probably not. Think about the world from the perspective of the sheep. The sheepdog is loud. It barks, runs toward the flock, gets in their way, forces them to change direction, and chases them away from places they want to go. From the sheep’s perspective, the dog may very well be the most annoying creature in the pasture.

The wolf, on the other hand, may appear far less threatening. It does not bark instructions. It does not impose boundaries. It does not force the sheep back toward safety. It does not tell them where they may or may not wander. It simply waits.

If the sheep could vote, I sometimes wonder whether they might vote to get rid of the dog. That simple image reveals something profound about human nature. We are often tempted to judge everything by how it makes us feel in the moment. The thing that restricts us feels hostile. The thing that leaves us alone feels friendly. The boundary feels oppressive. The absence of a boundary feels liberating.

But protection does not always feel like protection. A toddler may become angry when his father grabs his arm and prevents him from running into the street. The child experiences restraint. The father experiences rescue. The difference between the two is not love. It is knowledge. The child sees the road. The father sees the truck.

That pattern repeats itself throughout life. A teenager sees the curfew while the parent sees the danger. An employee sees a frustrating rule while an experienced leader may remember the catastrophe that caused the rule to exist in the first place. A citizen sees an old institution and assumes it is outdated, while a student of history may recognize centuries of painful lessons embedded within it.

And sometimes we encounter moral commandments that appear to stand between us and what we desire. We see the fence. God sees what lies beyond it. There is a modern tendency to define freedom as the absence of restriction. By that definition, the freest person is the one who can do whatever he wants whenever he wants to do it. But that is not how freedom actually works. True freedom is not simply the ability to choose. It is the ability to preserve your capacity to continue choosing.

A person may freely choose to use an addictive drug, but over time the drug can begin choosing for him. A person may freely purchase everything that eventually buries him in debt, but sooner or later his payments dictate where he lives, what work he can leave, what risks he can take, and what opportunities he can pursue.

A society may remove moral boundaries in the name of liberation only to discover that the consequences of those decisions create new forms of dependence, instability, and control. Not every fence is a prison. Some fences keep the wolves out. The difficulty is that wolves rarely introduce themselves honestly.

Evil does not usually walk through the gate carrying a sign announcing its intentions. It often arrives dressed in more attractive language. It may call itself compassion, freedom, convenience, progress, justice, self-expression, or harmless experimentation. The danger is not necessarily in those words themselves. Many good things can rightly be described by them. The danger is assuming that because something carries a noble label, it must therefore produce a noble outcome.

The temptation in the Garden of Eden did not begin with a declaration of war against Adam and Eve. It began with a question: “Hath God said?” That question has echoed throughout human history. Did God really say that? Does that standard really matter anymore? Is that tradition really necessary? Why should anyone tell you what you cannot do? Why should you accept limits created by people who lived generations before you?

Those are not always illegitimate questions. Traditions should be examined. Institutions should be held accountable. Human beings are fallible, and age alone does not make an idea wise. But age alone does not make an idea foolish either. Sometimes what appears to be an outdated restriction is accumulated wisdom. Civilization is filled with boundaries erected beside cliffs that later generations forgot were there. Once we forget the cliff, the fence begins to look absurd.

This is one reason the people who care most deeply about us will sometimes tell us things we do not want to hear. Parents do this. Friends do this. Mentors do this. Pastors do this. A true friend is not merely someone who celebrates every decision you make. Sometimes friendship requires enough courage to say, “I think you are making a mistake.”

That person may risk the relationship by telling you the truth. Meanwhile, someone who cares nothing about your future may happily affirm whatever gives you immediate pleasure. Approval is cheap. Love is expensive. Love sometimes requires confrontation.

Of course, this principle can be abused. Not every critic is wise. Not every authority figure deserves obedience. Parents can make mistakes. Governments can overreach. Institutions can become corrupt. Traditions can preserve injustice as easily as they can preserve wisdom. The answer is not blind obedience. The answer is discernment, and discernment requires skepticism in both directions.

We should question authority when necessary, but we should also question the person telling us that every authority is our enemy. We should examine traditions, but we should also examine the motives and assumptions of those demanding that every tradition be discarded. We should test boundaries, but before removing them, we should understand why they were erected.

Wisdom does not merely ask, “Who is stopping me?” Wisdom asks, “What are they trying to stop me from encountering?” This matters not only in our personal lives but in civilization itself. Every generation inherits institutions it did not create: marriage, family, churches, constitutional government, private property, free enterprise, due process, freedom of speech, separation of powers, local communities, civic organizations, and moral expectations surrounding honesty, fidelity, work, responsibility, and self-restraint.

None of these institutions are perfect because human beings are not perfect. But there is a dangerous arrogance in assuming that because we did not build the fence, the fence must serve no purpose.

The American Founders understood something essential about liberty: freedom requires virtue. John Adams famously observed that the Constitution was made for “a moral and religious people.” The principle behind that statement is simple. A free society depends heavily upon people who are capable of governing themselves.

When individuals cannot exercise self-restraint, someone eventually has to restrain them. When families collapse, government is asked to absorb responsibilities once handled closer to home. When personal responsibility disappears, institutions must absorb the consequences. When virtue becomes optional, regulation often becomes mandatory.

That is one of the great ironies of radical liberation. The destruction of every moral boundary does not necessarily produce greater freedom. Sometimes it produces conditions that require greater external control. Self-government begins with governing the self. Perhaps this is why the sheepdog so often looks like the enemy.

The person warning about consequences is accused of spreading fear. The parent establishing boundaries is called controlling. The preacher teaching ancient moral standards is called judgmental. The citizen defending constitutional limits is accused of standing in the way of progress. The person who asks whether rapid cultural change might carry unforeseen consequences is treated as though the question itself is evidence of bad character.

But disagreement is not hatred. Boundaries are not automatically oppression. Warnings are not violence. And discomfort is not necessarily harm. Sometimes discomfort is the feeling of someone pulling you away from a cliff.

Still, not every barking dog is a sheepdog. Some people manipulate through fear. Some leaders use tradition as an excuse for power. Some institutions deserve reform. Some boundaries deserve to be moved. The question is not whether the dog is barking. The question is what the dog is barking at.

That distinction requires wisdom. Christ taught His followers to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.” Wisdom looks beyond appearances. It asks who benefits from a particular idea, where a particular road leads, what happens if everyone follows the principle for twenty years, and what human weakness a particular boundary was designed to restrain.

Those are far better questions than simply asking whether a rule makes us uncomfortable. This also creates a responsibility for those of us who inherited the fences. We cannot merely tell the next generation, “Because I said so.” We must explain why.

If we believe marriage matters, we should explain why. If we believe faith matters, we should explain why. If we believe free speech matters, we should explain why. If we believe capitalism, property rights, constitutional government, personal responsibility, and limited government matter, we should explain the realities of human nature those principles were designed to address.

If we believe God’s commandments protect human happiness, then we should teach the principle behind the commandment, not merely repeat the prohibition. A generation that understands only the rule will eventually resent the rule. A generation that understands the reason may learn to defend it. Our children should not inherit fences without maps. They should know where the cliffs are.

So when something stands between you and what you want, resist the instinct to immediately declare it your enemy. Look farther down the road. Ask whether the restriction exists because someone understands a danger you cannot yet see. Ask whether the old institution you are preparing to dismantle solved a problem you have never personally experienced. Ask whether the person saying “no” might actually care enough about you to risk your anger.

And perhaps most importantly, ask whether the voice promising unlimited freedom has told you the entire price. Because the sheepdog and the wolf can both disrupt your peace. The difference is that one is willing to disturb you in order to save you. The other wants you comfortable until it is too late.

The dog may bark. The fence may constrain. The warning may irritate. The commandment may require sacrifice. But before we tear down every boundary standing between us and our desires, we should make absolutely certain we understand what was standing on the other side. Sometimes the thing that feels like an obstacle is actually standing guard. And sometimes the thing promising liberation is simply waiting for the gate to open.

“Before tearing down a fence because it limits your freedom, make sure you know what it was built to keep out.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

“The gifts of the Spirit grow in purpose when our desire to bless others becomes greater than our desire to be noticed.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

God has given each of us abilities, but He also invites us to seek gifts that reach beyond our natural strengths. We can seek greater faith, wisdom, discernment, and the capacity to bring healing and comfort to others. Seeking these gifts begins with acknowledging that our own understanding is insufficient. Just as a craftsman needs the right tools to accomplish his work, we need divine help to fulfill the responsibilities God places before us. There is humility in asking Heavenly Father to help us become capable of doing what we cannot accomplish alone.

Our motives matter. Why do we want greater discernment? To prove someone wrong, or to recognize truth and respond wisely? Why do we seek spiritual knowledge? To appear impressive, or to strengthen someone whose faith is struggling? God entrusts us with gifts for the benefit of His children. Our freedom to choose gives us the responsibility to decide how we will use what we receive. A spiritual gift should deepen our willingness to serve, listen, forgive, and act with integrity. We prepare ourselves to receive by repenting, keeping God’s commandments, and responding faithfully to the guidance He already gives us.

Sometimes we admire another person’s spiritual strength while overlooking the invitation to develop our own. We may assume that extraordinary faith belongs to someone else, or that wisdom is reserved for those with greater experience. Yet we can ask, learn, and practice obedience today. Growth may come quietly: through an impression to call a lonely friend, the courage to speak truth gently, or the faith to remain steady during uncertainty. We should seek gifts patiently, trusting God’s wisdom about what we need and when we receive it. As we use His gifts to bless His children, we become more like Jesus Christ.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Ask Heavenly Father for one spiritual gift that would help you serve someone in your life, then act on an opportunity to bless that person today.

I have spent enough of my life crossing cultures, communities, institutions, and political environments to learn something important: people are often far more comfortable telling you who you are than asking you who you have chosen to become. They look at your background, your skin color, your nationality, your religion, your profession, your economic circumstances, or the groups you belong to, and then they begin filling in the blanks. They assume they know what you believe. They assume they know what should offend you. They assume they know who your allies are, who your enemies are, what causes you should support, and even how you should vote.

I have learned to be suspicious of that.

Any time someone insists that my identity comes with a prepackaged set of political beliefs, grievances, enemies, or obligations, I want to know who wrote the script and why they are so eager for me to perform it. I want to know whether the identity they are handing me actually reflects who I am, or whether it simply makes me useful to their cause.

One of the most dangerous things that can happen to a human being is to become useful to a cause he never consciously chose. Not because he studied its principles. Not because he examined its consequences. Not because he wrestled with its assumptions and found them compelling. But because someone handed him an identity, convinced him that it belonged to him, and then told him how a person with that identity was supposed to think. That is not liberation. That is conscription.

And perhaps one of the great battles of our age is the battle to prevent ourselves from becoming ideological soldiers in wars we never volunteered to fight. An identity can be fashioned for you that promotes an ideology you have absolutely no interest in pursuing. If you are not careful, you can spend years playing a role written by someone else, advancing somebody else’s grievances, repeating somebody else’s arguments, and fighting somebody else’s enemies. Beware the borrowed identity.

Identity Is Powerful Because Identity Precedes Action

Human beings naturally seek belonging. We want to know who we are, where we came from, where we belong, and what our lives mean. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, identity is essential to human flourishing. The danger arises when someone else answers those questions for you.

Once someone convinces you who you are, it becomes much easier to convince you how you should behave. “You are one of us.” “People like you believe this.” “Your community supports this.” “Your generation understands this.” “Your race should vote this way.” “Your gender should think this way.” “Your economic class should resent these people.” “Your nationality should apologize for that.” “Your religion should support this movement.”

Notice what has happened. The argument is no longer about whether an idea is true. The argument has become about whether you are loyal to your assigned identity. That is an extraordinarily powerful form of social control. Instead of asking, “Is this true?” you begin asking, “What are people like me supposed to believe?” Those are very different questions. One seeks truth. The other seeks permission.

“The moment someone convinces you that questioning an idea is a betrayal of your identity, they have stopped persuading you and started controlling you.”
Alma Ohene-Opare

You Can Become a Pawn in Someone Else’s Vengeance

Consider a chessboard. The pawn does not know the strategy. The pawn does not understand the king’s ambitions. The pawn does not know why the bishop is moving diagonally across the board or why the knight has suddenly appeared beside him. The pawn simply moves where it is told.

Sometimes entire generations are recruited into unresolved grievances in exactly this way. Someone else was injured. Someone else became bitter. Someone else developed an ideology around that bitterness. Then the grievance was packaged, inherited, and handed to people who never experienced the original offense. Now those people are expected to carry the resentment.

This is especially dangerous when historical memory becomes historical vengeance. We absolutely should learn history. We should tell the truth about injustice. We should honor those who suffered. We should correct injustice where it exists. But there is a profound difference between learning from history and being imprisoned by it. There is a difference between remembering injustice and inheriting hatred. There is a difference between seeking justice and seeking vengeance.

Scripture teaches that vengeance belongs to God. That principle is not merely theological. It contains extraordinary wisdom about human nature. Vengeance consumes the vessel carrying it. And you should be very careful when someone tries to place that vessel in your hands.

The Role May Have Been Assigned Without Your Consent

Modern society loves categories. Race. Class. Sex. Generation. Political affiliation. Nationality. Education. Religion. Income. Geography. Algorithms can now place you into increasingly sophisticated categories based on almost everything you do. And categories can be useful.

The problem begins when description becomes destiny. You are told that because you belong to Category A, you must possess Opinion B, support Movement C, oppose Group D, and vote for Candidate E. But who authorized that arrangement? When did demographic characteristics become ideological contracts? When did ancestry become political consent? When did belonging to a community require surrendering intellectual independence?

Freedom requires more than the ability to speak. Freedom requires the ability to think before you speak. You must reserve the right to examine every proposition individually. You must reserve the right to say: I agree with you here. I disagree with you there. I understand your grievance without adopting your hatred. I share your background without sharing your ideology. I can love my community without outsourcing my conscience to it. That is agency. And agency is one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind.

Know Yourself Before the World Tells You Who You Are

There is an old wisdom contained in the command to “know thyself.” Knowing yourself does not mean indulging every desire you possess. It means understanding your principles deeply enough that you cannot easily be manipulated.

What do you believe about God? What do you believe about human nature? What do you believe about liberty? What do you believe about responsibility? What do you believe about family? What do you believe about justice? What do you believe about work? What do you believe about forgiveness? What do you believe about the purpose of government? What do you believe about the dignity of every individual?

If you cannot answer those questions, someone else will happily answer them for you. And once someone else supplies your worldview, they can begin supplying your enemies.

This is why principles matter more than movements. Movements change. Parties change. Politicians change. Cultural fashions change. Institutions change. Principles provide a compass when everything else is moving.

The American experiment itself was built around several profound assumptions about human identity: that individuals possess rights that precede government, that legitimate government derives authority from the consent of the governed, and that liberty requires responsibility. Those ideas place tremendous dignity upon the individual. You are not merely a representative of your tribe. You are a moral agent. You are accountable for your choices. You have the right and responsibility to think.

Ask Who Benefits From the Identity Being Offered

Whenever someone aggressively attempts to define you, ask an important question: What does this definition require me to do?

Identity narratives almost always contain behavioral expectations. If someone tells you that you are oppressed, there may soon be instructions about whom you should resent. If someone tells you that you are privileged, there may soon be instructions about what beliefs you must surrender. If someone tells you that you are a victim, there may soon be instructions about whom you should blame. If someone tells you that you are an ally, there may soon be demands for ideological obedience.

This does not mean oppression never exists. It does not mean privilege never exists. It does not mean victimization never occurs. It means descriptions of reality should remain descriptions of reality rather than becoming mechanisms of control. Truth should produce understanding. It should not manufacture obedience.

Your Deepest Identity Is Not Political

For the believer, there is an even deeper truth. Before you are Republican or Democrat, conservative or progressive, rich or poor, black or white, immigrant or native-born, employer or employee, you are a child of God.

That identity carries obligations. It means the person standing across the political divide is also a child of God. It means you cannot justify hatred merely because your tribe approves of it. It means no political movement deserves your unconditional loyalty. It means every ideology must ultimately stand before truth, morality, conscience, and God.

Jesus repeatedly refused the identities others attempted to impose upon Him. Political factions wanted to recruit Him. Religious leaders attempted to categorize Him. Crowds tried to crown Him according to their expectations. His answer, in essence, was always the same: My mission comes from somewhere higher. That is a powerful model for us.

Build an Identity Strong Enough to Withstand the Crowd

So what should we do? Examine your beliefs one at a time. Ask why you believe what you believe. Read people you disagree with. Separate facts from narratives. Separate injustice from ideological exploitation of injustice. Refuse to inherit hatred. Reject the idea that demographic characteristics determine political obligations. Study history without becoming imprisoned by it. Anchor yourself in eternal principles rather than temporary cultural movements. And above all, maintain the courage to disappoint your tribe.

There may come a moment when everyone around you is walking toward one gate and your conscience tells you to walk toward another. Walk toward the other gate. There may come a moment when refusing the assigned role costs you approval. Pay the price. There may come a moment when people accuse you of betraying your identity because you refuse to surrender your mind. Remember that your identity was never theirs to grant.

God gave you agency. Use it.

America’s tradition of ordered liberty depends upon citizens capable of thinking independently, governing themselves morally, and resisting the temptation to reduce neighbors into competing tribes. A free society cannot survive for long if its people surrender their identities to ideological architects.

Know who you are. Know what you believe. Know why you believe it. And never allow another person’s bitterness, ambition, ideology, or grievance to quietly become your destiny.

“If someone else can define who you are, they are already halfway toward deciding what you must believe. Know yourself well enough to remain free.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

“A boundary set by a loving Father can protect a future we cannot yet see.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

A guardrail on a mountain road limits where a driver can go. From behind the wheel, it may seem like an obstacle, especially when the road looks wide enough to take a faster turn. But the guardrail was placed there with a view of the drop beyond it. Its purpose is to help the traveler reach the destination safely.

God’s commandments can feel restrictive in much the same way. We may see the pleasure we are asked to forgo, the forgiveness we are asked to offer, or the discipline we are asked to practice. We cannot always see what obedience preserves: trust in a marriage, peace in a home, freedom from a habit, or the ability to hear the Holy Ghost clearly. Because our view is limited, we may mistake His care for an unnecessary constraint.

God gave us agency, and He invites us to choose His way. His commandments teach us how to use that freedom well. A loving father does not need to explain every danger before he reaches for his child’s hand at a crossing. Our Father in Heaven understands more than we do, and His love reaches further into our future than we can imagine. When we do not yet understand a commandment, we can bring our questions to Him while practicing trust. As we follow Jesus Christ, obedience can become an expression of love for the Father who first loved us.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Choose one commandment that has felt difficult to keep. Pray to understand what it may be protecting, then take one faithful step in keeping it today.

“Faith does not require me to understand every turn in the road. It asks me to trust the One who sees where it leads.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

We often judge God’s direction by what we can see today. A delayed opportunity feels like a closed door. A commandment feels restrictive when another path promises an easier reward. A prayer seems unanswered because the answer has not arrived in the form we expected. Yet our view is limited to one stretch of the road. God sees the destination, the dangers, and the person we can become along the way.

Paul taught that “the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.” Human wisdom has real uses. We should learn, reason, and make responsible choices. But when our reasoning tells us to set aside what God has revealed, we should examine what we may be missing. A child might see only the discomfort of a parent pulling him back from a busy street. The parent sees the danger. Likewise, God’s instruction can protect us even before we understand why we need it.

Trusting God is an exercise of agency, not a surrender of it. We choose to seek His will and act on what we know to be right. We can be honest about our questions while remaining willing to learn. As we follow Jesus Christ, humility helps us exchange the comfort of being right for the blessing of becoming more like Him.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Identify one decision you are trying to control. Pray about it, then take one step consistent with a commandment or prompting you already understand.

“Loving an enemy does not require surrendering the truth. It requires refusing to surrender their humanity.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

Jesus commanded us to love our enemies, bless those who curse us, and do good to those who hate us. He gave that command knowing that some people would treat His followers unjustly. Love, then, is more than a feeling we offer to people who make it easy. It is a choice to seek another person’s good even when we must firmly oppose what they say or do.

Our society often treats disagreement as evidence that the other person is foolish or beyond reason. Once we see someone that way, ridicule feels justified and cruelty can start to look like courage. But every person we argue with is a child of God, with a life and concerns we may not understand. We can defend our convictions without assuming the worst about their motives. We can speak plainly, listen carefully, and refuse to make contempt the price of standing for truth.

Loving those who persecute us does not mean excusing harm or abandoning wise boundaries. It means we do not let their conduct decide our character. A person may reject our kindness, but we remain free to offer it. We may never persuade an opponent, but we can still pray for them, tell the truth about them, and help them when they are in need. That is the higher standard Jesus lived, and choosing it draws us closer to Him.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Choose one person with whom you strongly disagree. Pray for their welfare today, then look for one opportunity to speak about them fairly or do them a concrete good.

“Faith does not require us to know what tomorrow holds. It asks us to remember who holds us today.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

Fear often grows in the space between what we know and what we cannot yet see. A parent may fear for a child’s future. A family may face a financial burden without knowing how it will be resolved. We cannot always fill those gaps with more information. But we can fill them with what we know of God: He loves His children, keeps His promises, and sent Jesus Christ to make hope possible even in a fallen world.

When Jesus said, “Let not your heart be troubled,” He was speaking to disciples who would soon face grief and uncertainty. His words did not mean they would never feel afraid. They were an invitation to trust Him when fear came. Faith gives us the freedom to act according to truth instead of surrendering our choices to the worst outcome we can imagine. Like a traveler following a lighted path at night, we may see only the next few steps. We can still take them.

We fear less as we come to know Christ more. His Resurrection assures us that loss and death do not have the final word. His mercy assures us that our weaknesses do not put us beyond His reach. His example teaches us to meet uncertainty with prayer, courage, and love. When fear rises today, we can acknowledge it honestly, then choose one faithful action. That is how trust in Christ becomes Christlike living.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Name one fear you are carrying. Pray about it, then take one small action today that reflects trust in the Savior.

“False witness begins whenever we assign motives we cannot know and then judge a person by the story we invented.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Commentary:

The commandment, “Thou shalt not bear false witness,” reaches far beyond the courtroom. It establishes a moral law for how we speak about others, represent their actions, and even interpret their intentions. We can repeat every word someone said accurately and still bear false witness if we attach motives, assumptions, or accusations that were never actually expressed. Integrity requires more than truthful words. It requires truthful representation.

This temptation is especially strong when communication is brief, written, or emotionally charged. A text message can be read with a tone the sender never intended. A disagreement can be interpreted as hostility. A question can be labeled an attack. Once we assume the worst, we may begin responding not to what someone actually said, but to the meaning we assigned to it. It is like looking through a distorted window and then blaming the landscape for appearing crooked. Freedom depends upon people who are willing to judge carefully, speak accurately, and resist the impulse to condemn without sufficient knowledge.

God gives us agency, but agency carries responsibility. We are responsible not only for what we say, but for whether we have been fair in describing another person’s words and intentions. Humility leaves room for the possibility that we misunderstood. Charity asks questions before making accusations. Moral courage corrects the record when we discover that our interpretation was wrong. Christlike living means loving truth enough to refuse both deliberate lies and convenient assumptions.

Scripture:

Daily Application:

Clarify one assumption today before judging someone's words or intentions. Ask what they meant instead of deciding for them.

“The voice of the Holy Ghost is rarely drowned out by distance from God, but often by the noise we choose to keep close.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“God does not call us to disappear into the culture, but to preserve what is good within it.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Faith is not merely what we believe about God; it is what we are willing to do because we believe Him.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Doubt asks us to trust what we can see; faith invites us to trust the God who sees what we cannot.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Unconditional love does not mean approving everything we do. It means our failures never exhaust God’s willingness to call us home.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“The voice of the Lord becomes clearer when our hearts are willing to obey before we know what He will ask.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Money becomes dangerous when it replaces God, but powerful for good when it is placed in His service.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Hope is not wishful thinking. It is spiritual strength anchored in the certainty that Christ has not abandoned the field.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Unconditional love means a person’s worth is never up for debate, but it does not require us to call every choice good.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Refusing to repay evil with evil is not surrender. It is the disciplined strength of a soul that refuses to become what it opposes.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“Church should be a place where wounded people find healing, not where imperfect people learn to hide.” — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more

“The strength of a prayer is not found in how impressive it sounds, but in how honestly the heart bows before God. — Alma Ohene-Opare

Read more