I AM Redeemed and Rooted

The Comfort Moses “Mo” Carter had built a life most people envied. Corner office. Predictable income. Benefits. Respect. He wasn’t struggling. He wasn’t searching. He had learned how to stay quiet, do his job well, and avoid rocking the boat. But one afternoon, everything shifted. Mo witnessed a situation no one wanted to address. A junior employee publicly humiliated. Power abused. Injustice dismissed as “company culture.” Something burned in him. He spoke up. And the room went cold. Whispers followed. Meetings changed. Doors quietly closed. Mo realized something that day: Comfort has a cost when it requires silence. The Exit Within weeks, Mo was gone. Not fired. Not promoted. Just… edged out. He told himself it was fine. “I needed a break anyway.” He moved away from the pace. Took a lower-profile role. Life slowed down. But obscurity has a way of stripping distractions. And in the quiet, the questions came. Why did that moment affect me so deeply? Why can’t I shake it? That’s when th...

Josiah “Jo” Perez always saw further than his role allowed. While others focused on quarterly goals and safe decisions, Jo talked vision. Expansion. Innovation. Systems that could actually work. But vision can threaten people who are comfortable. In team meetings, his ideas were quietly dismissed. In private threads, his name was questioned. “He thinks he’s better than us,” someone said. “He needs to stay in his lane,” another replied. Jo didn’t know it yet, but the same people who heard his dream were already planning his exit. The Pit The email came without warning. “We’ve decided to move forward without you.” No explanation. No meeting. Just removal. Slack access revoked. Projects reassigned. His name erased like it never mattered. Betrayed by people he trusted. Undercut by those who smiled in his face. Jo sat in his car afterward, staring at the steering wheel, asking the question we all ask when the fall makes no sense: “God… why?” The pit is rarely dramatic. Some...

He kept losing money fast and borrowed his way into desperation. Then he signed away his legacy. Eli had the instincts. Fast trades. Big risk. Bigger confidence. He loved the rush of the market opening, the adrenaline of watching numbers move in seconds. When it worked, he felt untouchable. When it did not, he doubled down. Loss after loss stacked quietly until they were no longer quiet. Margin calls. Investor texts. Loans from people who expected returns, not excuses. By the time Eli walked into Jace’s office, he was running on fumes and fear. Hungry Now Jace traded differently. Slow. Intentional. Long-term. He believed in inheritance, not hype. Compounding, not gambling. He had stayed close to their parents, learned how legacy worked, and protected the family stake they had built over decades. Eli paced the room. “I am in trouble,” he admitted. “I need capital. Today. If I do not cover these losses, I am finished.” Jace leaned back, listening carefully. “How bad?” he asked. Eli sw...

God asked him to lay down the dream he waited years to build. Before the platform. Before the audience. Before the emails and endorsements. There was only a promise. Adrian remembered the night God spoke it. Quiet. Certain. Unmistakable. “I will establish what you build.” He believed God. He trusted Him through obscurity, through rejection, through years when nothing moved except his faith. He built slowly. Carefully. Prayerfully. And then, finally, it happened. The platform took off. The Dream Fulfilled Isaac, known to most as Zac, sat across from his father in the office that once felt like a prayer room and now buzzed with momentum. The numbers were undeniable. The reach was global. The influence was real. Years of obedience had finally produced visible fruit. “This is it,” Zac said, smiling. “This is what we waited for.” Adrian smiled back, but something inside him shifted. That night, long after the building emptied, Adrian stayed behind. He stared at the screens...

She left the city, but the city never left her heart. Lola stood in the doorway just before dawn, the skyline glowing behind her like a memory begging to be remembered. She had packed light. Not because she owned little, but because God had made the instruction clear. Leave now. Do not delay. Do not look back. Marcus waited by the car, keys in hand, eyes forward. He had already grieved what they were leaving. He had already settled the decision in his spirit. Lola had not. The Call to Leave The city had been good to her. It gave her recognition. A sense of belonging. A version of herself that felt admired and known. The dinners. The rooftop conversations. The comfort of familiarity. But it was also collapsing from the inside out. God had warned them. What once felt alive was rotting beneath the surface. Values were shifting. Lines were blurring. What was celebrated yesterday now demanded a cost she could no longer pay. Obedience required separation. So they left. The Pull of What...

Before the crowd. Before the company. Before the properties and the podcasts. There was only a promise. “You will be the father of many nations.” Abram believed God. He held that word in his heart like a seed planted in good soil. But years passed. Cities grew. His influence grew. His resources multiplied. Yet the one thing he prayed for the promise of a son had not come. The Weight of Waiting Ten years into the journey, Sarah broke the silence. “We’ve built a company. We’ve launched a podcast. We’ve bought property in three cities. But the one thing we asked Him for still hasn’t come.” Abram sighed. “Delay doesn’t mean denial. I still believe Him.” But Sarah pushed back. “Maybe He wants us to help Him out. Maybe waiting is just another word for stuck.” Her eyes drifted to Hagar, the young woman serving faithfully in their household. Loyal. Smart. Present. Close. “Maybe she’s the way.” Sometimes the wrong answer looks convenient. Sometimes proximity feels like permission. ...

Welcome to Ascend the tech company that promised to connect humanity. From the rooftop of its gleaming skyscraper, ambition soared. The offices buzzed with vision, energy, and strategy. Their product? A sleek app called HeavenLink , designed to erase borders and unite the world. But there was one problem. Their blueprint missed the breath of God. The Tower of Ambition Nova, Ascend’s charismatic founder, led the charge. Once an influencer, now a CEO, she was driven by ambition and obsessed with legacy. “With HeavenLink, we will build a digital tower unlike anything humanity has ever seen,” she declared. “Borders erased. Connections unlimited. This is our ascension.” The crowd applauded. Investors smiled. Screens lit up with projections of global dominance. But amidst the applause, one voice trembled. Warnings in the Dark Eli, a key investor, couldn’t shake a gnawing sense of unease. Night after night, reports filled his desk and so did questions in his spirit. “God, something isn’t rig...

In the heart of the modern metropolis, glass towers pierced the sky and glowing screens never slept. Everyone was busy. Building brands. Posting reels. Chasing numbers. Everyone except one man. His name was Noel Rain. He wasn’t famous. He didn’t fit the culture. But he carried something the world had forgotten how to hear: God’s voice. Building What No One Understood While the city moved in rhythm with notifications and deadlines, Noel worked alone in his cluttered garage. Wooden beams. Solar panels. Hand-carved frames. Neighbors scoffed: “Why waste your time on that?” “You need a paycheck, not a project.” “Bro, you don’t need a toolbox, you need a therapist.” Their laughter cut sharp, but Noel’s obedience cut deeper. Every insult became fuel. Every sneer another reminder: obedience often looks foolish until it doesn’t. Even his family felt the tension. His wife avoided the garage. His son stopped inviting friends over. His oldest finally asked the question on everyone’s lips: “Dad…...