Day of Epiphany

  • Beyond Human Knowledge: The Unique Intelligence of Faith

    Science prides itself on discovery. It seeks answers through observation, experimentation, and reason. And yet, even the most brilliant minds struggle with the greatest mysteries of existence—things beyond human comprehension. Job 38 presents a divine challenge, one that highlights the boundaries of human knowledge. God’s questions to Job reveal a truth many scientists hesitate to acknowledge: some things remain unknowable, reserved for God alone.

    Faith, unlike science, demands a different kind of intelligence—one that embraces humility, accepts uncertainty, and finds wisdom in submission to the divine. This intelligence isn’t measured in formulas or experiments, but in the ability to trust in what cannot be seen.

    Throughout Job 38, God asks questions that expose human limitations. Where were we when the foundations of the Earth were laid? Have we entered into the springs of the sea? Can we loosen the cords of Orion or bind the Pleiades? Science has attempted to answer these questions, but even the most advanced discoveries leave gaps—things unseen, things incompletely understood. Consider hail forming in a cloud. Science confidently explains the process—updrafts lifting droplets into freezing temperatures, causing them to accumulate layers of ice before falling to the ground. Yet, no human has ever directly observed hailstones forming within nature, inside the cloud itself. Job 38:22 asks, “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail?” This question highlights a deeper truth: while science may describe how hail forms, we have not entered the storehouses where it is shaped. No direct visual evidence exists of hailstones taking form within a cloud, despite our theoretical understanding. We accept meteorological explanations as fact, yet when faith asks for trust, skeptics demand physical proof. This selective belief reveals the challenge of human pride—we trust in science’s claims while rejecting faith’s call for the same kind of trust.

    Many scientists are fiercely skeptical, unwilling to accept what cannot be measured. Pride plays a role, too. A scientist takes great satisfaction in discovery, in uncovering answers that were once hidden. Yet, when they reach the limits of understanding, rarely do they proclaim their uncertainty. Humility—the willingness to admit there are things beyond human reach—is often absent. This is where faith and science diverge. Science demands evidence but accepts inference. Faith, in contrast, acknowledges that some truths must simply be received.

    This is precisely the challenge presented in 2 Corinthians 10:5: “We demolish arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.” It’s a reminder that human reason, no matter how advanced, can sometimes set itself against divine truth. Faith requires us to take every thought—every doubt, every skepticism—captive, bringing it into obedience under Christ. For the scientist who values knowledge above all else, the most logical pursuit should be the search for ultimate truth. And yet, many reject this path. Why? What do they have to lose?

    Job 38 is a humbling chapter—a reminder that no matter how much humanity uncovers, there will always be mysteries that remain in God’s hands alone. True intelligence isn’t just about knowing facts; it’s about recognizing where human knowledge ends and faith begins. For the scientist who refuses to believe, the challenge is simple: If the desire for knowledge drives discovery, why not explore the possibility that God holds the answers science cannot? Why resist the chance to find wisdom beyond human limits? In the end, the greatest intellect is the one that seeks truth wherever it may be found—including in faith.

  • Hello, Are You There God? An Invitation to Walk With Him

    The Lord is here with you. He listens to your voice, eager to hear your stories—of both suffering and joy. He delights in hearing about your day and your night. He longs for you to share your memories and dreams with Him, and to lean in, listening closely to His own.


    He wants you to hear His stories—stories of justice and mercy. He invites you to witness His glory and share in His sorrow. He calls on you to shepherd His children and to follow Him wherever He leads. He asks you to listen carefully to His commands and remain steadfast in your faith.


    He sees the good in your heart, your kindness and perseverance, and He knows your repentance when you turn back to Him. His forgiveness is a testament to His unwavering love and endless mercy.


    You are on a journey, one that He has prepared for you. It is a narrow path, traveled only by those with the courage to endure. But He chose you because He knows you are strong enough to walk it. He speaks to warn you of the evil lurking in the shadows, waiting to pull you astray, and His presence surrounds you, a shield of safety in every step.


    He reassures you: “This is a difficult path, but the reward is unlike any other. It is a story that few can live to tell—a story shared with ancestors and passed down to descendants.”


    Those who complete this journey will live forever, sharing in the life and promise of eternity. He beckons you to embrace an everlasting relationship with Him, one that leads to His Kingdom, to the fellowship of His chosen people.

  • Breaking the Chains of Generational Sin

    As I reread the profound verses in Exodus tonight, a personal epiphany struck me—a revelation that I am part of a story much larger than myself, shaped by generations that came before me, but not bound to repeat their mistakes forever.

    Exodus 34:7 tells us: “Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children’s children, unto the third and to the fourth generation.”

    These words are striking. They carry the weight of generational sin—a reality I am beginning to acknowledge. Perhaps I am the third generation in this chain, shaped unknowingly by the iniquities of my father and grandfather. I cannot fully know the depths of their sins, but I know they were forgiven and shown mercy by our Savior, Jesus Christ.

    Now, the fourth generation awaits. How do I break the chain? How do I ensure that the echoes of sin stop with me? It begins with truth. The fourth generation must know—not just about the flaws of their ancestors, but also about the grace that God offers us all.

    Exodus 34 also reminds us of the Lord’s nature: “The Lord, The Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin…”

    This is our hope. The cycle can end, not through my strength alone, but through His unending mercy and grace. I must confront my own sins, acknowledge them openly, and share the beauty of God’s forgiveness with those who come after me. It is His forgiveness that will pave a way forward—a way free of chains.

    This epiphany is not just for me; it is a call for redemption, a call for action, and a call to share the Gospel. My sin does not have to define me. Nor does it have to define my family. By the grace of our Lord, I believe that the fourth generation can know freedom, forgiveness, and the boundless love of our Savior in heaven.

  • Noah’s Day

    In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, on the seventeenth day of the second month—on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights. On that very day Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth, together with his wife and the wives of his three sons, entered the ark. (Genesis 7:11-12, NIV)

    I like to think of today as Noah’s Day. You see, Noah, like many of us, had an epiphany. While we don’t know exactly what Noah’s epiphany was, he had one nonetheless. This epiphany led Noah to truly believe in the Lord and that the Lord was speaking to him. The Lord told him to do some crazy things, right? I mean, who would build an ark the size of a football stadium because they thought God told them to? Noah, that’s who.

    The Bible doesn’t offer much about Noah before he built his ark, but what the story of Noah does tell us is to believe and follow what God commands us to do. I like to think of today as Noah’s Day because we should celebrate the faith that Noah had in the Lord. Noah believed God when He said, “I am going to put an end to all people.” (Genesis 6:13, NIV) Noah feared his Lord, and it was this fear that led Noah to act in such an extraordinary way. But the Lord also made a promise to Noah, a covenant with him. Despite this fear of destruction, God promised Noah that he and all who followed him into the ark would be “kept alive.” (Genesis 6:20, NIV)

    So, on February 17, Noah saved so much and all that dwelled on land. Thank God for Noah and Noah’s epiphany.

    Last night, I watched “The Poseidon Adventure,” a movie with many underlying yet not-so-hidden Christian themes. Watching it, with its boat theme, reminded me that I needed to finish this blog post. The preacher in the film, much like Noah, had an epiphany. Many people aboard the ship thought he was crazy for trying to climb up (which was actually down since the ship was upside down) to reach the bottom of the ship. There were those who faithfully followed, but there were also those who reluctantly followed, thinking he was still crazy. And then there were those who simply stayed behind, unable to believe in the preacher’s vision.

    What about the people that Noah left behind? Did they just think he was crazy, or did they believe that there was nothing they could do and only God could save them?

    The preacher in “The Poseidon Adventure” believed that God would save them, but he also believed it was through the acts that God told them to do, through those epiphanies, like Noah’s. Let’s take a moment today to celebrate Noah’s unwavering faith and courage to follow God’s commands, even when they seemed impossible. And let us reflect on our own epiphanies and the steps we are willing to take in faith.

  • Absolute Unshakable Faith

    I just finished watching the first episode of the Martin Scorsese documentary series “The Saints,” which features the story of Joan of Arc. In a world where faith is often questioned, the story of Joan of Arc stands as a beacon of unwavering belief. For those of you who don’t know the story of Joan, she was a young peasant girl born in 1412 in Domrémy, France. Despite being a young peasant girl in medieval France, Joan’s divine visions propelled her onto the grand stage of history. At the age of 13, she began to hear voices, which she believed were sent by God. These voices, which she attributed to Saints Michael, Catherine, and Margaret, urged her to support Charles VII and help liberate France from English domination during the Hundred Years’ War.

    You see, Joan is the perfect example of someone who had an epiphany from God. She truly believed that God was delivering a message to her. In her moments of solitude, Joan heard the voices of Saints Michael, Catherine, and Margaret. They revealed God’s will to her—she was to save France and ensure Charles VII’s coronation. Despite her young age and lack of military experience, she displayed incredible conviction and courage in following these divine commands.

    Was she truly hearing the angels, or was she crazy as they originally thought? Even when her own countrymen doubted her and the English labeled her a heretic, Joan’s faith never wavered. Today, if someone did the outrageous things that Joan did and faithfully stuck to their claim that God was telling them to do these things, how would we treat them? We clearly would not accept them just as Fr. James Martin says in the commentary at the end of the episode.

    Joan was ultimately burned at the stake as a heretic. It wasn’t until 1920, nearly 500 years later, that she was canonized as a saint. What would we do today to someone who truly believed like Joan, who had an epiphany like Joan, who stuck to their guns no matter what? If someone today claimed to hear divine voices urging them to a seemingly impossible mission, would we have the faith to believe in them as Joan believed in herself? I would like to think I could. I may not be able to live exactly as Christ did, but I hope that I could have the kind of faith she had, and when I die, people will say I had faith like Joan. As Martin Scorsese described it, “At the heart of absolutely everything… Is her faith. Her absolute, unshakable faith.”

    Joan of Arc’s story reminds us that true faith can move mountains, and in her words, “I am not afraid, I was born to do this.”

  • An Epiphany from God: The Extraordinary in the Ordinary

    Tonight, as I navigated the familiar ebb and flow of family life and personal challenges, I found myself reflecting on the importance of timing and honesty in storytelling. Inspired by my journey and a sleepless night filled with introspection, I began to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

    Work, family gatherings, and unexpected mishaps reminded me that every moment, no matter how mundane, holds valuable lessons. As I pondered my own experiences, I realized that the honesty of these moments—the good, the bad, and the absurd—are what make life truly extraordinary.

    A conversation with my wife brought back a memory of our past cat, Nala, and the blurred lines between my actions and my recollections. It’s a reminder of how our memories can shift over time, and how questioning our past can bring clarity and growth, especially if you are a compartmentalizer like me.

    In the quiet of the night, with the help of an AI companion, I found myself drafting the first chapter of my memoir. I’m a huge proponent of AI, and I believe that AI, like all things, is a gift from God. Given to us by God, it helps me organize my thoughts and bring my ideas to life.

    However, trying to write this memoir will be both a blessing and a challenge. I struggle with the balance of being truthful while trying to remain anonymous, knowing that sharing my story could potentially hurt those I care about. Yet, I feel a divine nudge to document my journey and share my story with the world.

    I believe that if more people were brutally honest in sharing even the worst of life, the crazy of life, the ordinary of life, along with the extraordinary of life, others would truly learn from those experiences. And if you can’t share that with the world, share it with your brothers, share it with your sisters, share it with your children, share it with your friends. Share it at least with those you really care about, even if it might hurt them, because maybe it will help them avoid the mistakes you have made and help them live a life more like Christ.

    Tonight’s epiphany, God telling me to write a memoir or at least continue to tell stories others can learn from, has reinforced the importance of timing and honesty in storytelling. As I continue to reflect and write, I hope to capture the essence of an ordinary life lived with extraordinary love and experiences, while questioning and understanding the complex layers of my past. Maybe I’ll share these truly personal stories with the world, but I know I will share them with those I care deeply about.

    That’s just one of my personal epiphanies. My full memoir is still to be written. Until then, stay tuned for more stories of Epiphany.

  • Epiphanies: A Point of No Return

    My plan was originally to create a place for others to share their epiphany stories. Tonight, I realized I built this to share mine, because God told me to. Here’s my definition of what an epiphany truly is: Simply put, an epiphany is a point of no return.

    Once you have a vision that tells you what the future holds, is that a premonition? Is that a prediction? I say no, that is an epiphany. But a true epiphany cannot be recalled, cannot be taken back, and cannot not happen. Or maybe that’s the idea—an epiphany is a vision from God. A vision that tells you, “THIS will happen.”

    An epiphany is a warning from the God of Abraham, our Lord. It’s the point of no return. It’s when the Lord tells us, “Go forward, or go back.” But it is our choice. He gave us free will. Or did he?

    Some of us realize when our vision, our thought, our insight is an epiphany. Some of us don’t. That is because we are tempted. Tempted to not believe in our Lord. Tempted by evil. God have mercy for those who do not understand.

    The Lord has provided all; all substance both physical and spiritual. Many have taken what God has provided in the physical sense, but the Lord, thy God, cares nothing about what we take in the physical world. For only He knows, it’s the soul that counts. The Lord wants you to know, those epiphanies are, like all things, because of Him.