A Few Words on Faith
I had everything the world says should make you happy—success, material possessions, and the perfect lifestyle. But when my life fell apart, I realized I’d been chasing the wrong things all along.
LET ME BEGIN WITH
As a photographer, I’ve spent years working in a world where sharing faith can feel risky. Some of you have even told me you hide your beliefs to keep the peace or protect your career. I get it—it’s not easy.
But I want to encourage you to see your faith as a source of strength, not something to hide. Yesterday, I promised a group of men I’d share my story, so here it is: I had everything the world says should make you happy, but when my life fell apart, I realized I’d been chasing all the wrong things.
My Testimony
I spent my twenties grinding in hustle culture, chasing success with everything I had. By the time I hit thirty, I thought I'd figured life out. I had the dream NYC apartment overlooking the Hudson River, a career I loved, and the lifestyle I always wanted. On the surface, my world looked perfect. I traveled the globe, ran a thriving business, and lived what most would call the "rockstar lifestyle."
I'll spare the details to respect my loved ones, but let's just say my life was full of stories that could make most men blush.
By my late twenties, I had stood on stage with 35,000 viewers tuning in to hear what I had to say. I'd written two Amazon bestsellers and been featured in international publications. These accomplishments brought fleeting moments of pride, but beneath it all, there was a vast emptiness.
No matter how far I traveled or how much I achieved, something always felt missing. Every success felt hollow. Every indulgence, fleeting. I distinctly remember flying back from Japan feeling depressed—not because something went wrong, but because the world suddenly felt so small. No matter how much I accomplished, I couldn't shake the sense that none of it really mattered.
In late 2019, my marriage fell apart before it had a chance to take root. Everything I thought I was building came crashing down. My identity—who I thought I was, the future I thought I had—was gone. I was drowning in shame, regret, and failure. Above all else, I felt completely alone.
As I tried to pick up the pieces, I leaned on all the wrong things. I surrounded myself with people who amplified the chaos instead of quieting it. I turned to alcohol to numb the pain, but it only made things worse. I was lost, spiraling into a darkness I couldn't escape.
In one of my darkest moments, I broke down and cried out to God. It wasn't eloquent—just raw and desperate: God if You're real, I need You. I didn't expect an answer, but He met me in that moment. Not with thunder or a booming voice,but with an unexplainable peace that settled deep in my heart for the first time.
Around that time, I reached out to a friend, Rebekah. She's an unashamed follower of Jesus, and I asked her for guidance. Her response was simple: Just have faith. Faith that God will meet you where you are. Faith that He'll make a path forward.
Here's the thing. For years, I quietly judged people of faith, thinking it was just wishful thinking. The idea of "just having faith" sounded too much like blind optimism to me. But when I reached a point where I didn't have any better answers, I figured—why not give it a shot? What did I have to lose?
Looking back, I see how God was already at work, fulfilling His promise in 2 Corinthians 12:9: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." In my weakest moment, He stepped in. Not to fix my circumstances instantly but to begin fixing me.
Slowly, I noticed subtle shifts—in my decisions, my relationships, and the opportunities around me. I began to realize how lonely my path had been, not because of my circumstances but because I had chosen to walk it in isolation.
Let me be clear: I'm a deeply logical person. To me, 1+1 will always equal 2. I lean on evidence, reasoning, and arguments grounded in logic. But with God, things don't always work that way. Sometimes, He lets us hit rock bottom—not to punish us, but so that when we rise again, the only explanation is His grace and mercy.
Jesus didn't just save me from my circumstances—He saved me from myself. Without Him, I kept making choices that deepened the pain. Step by step, He began to heal the broken parts of me and show me what truly mattered. It wasn't an instant transformation, but it was real. He replaced my shame with hope and my emptiness with purpose.
That's why I committed my life to Jesus and was baptized at ElevateLife Church in April 2021.
If I seem a little different now than I was five or ten years ago, I'm grateful for that—because that person isn't me anymore.
Let me be honest: I'm still a work in progress. (I'll admit, I still drop a few choice words now and then, and my faith might sound a little "Southside of Christianity" at times.) But the difference now is that I know my worth isn't defined by my past mistakes or the fleeting success I once chased. My identity is rooted in Him, and I'm thankful for the grace guiding me on this new path—a path filled with purpose, growth, and redemption.
Why does this matter to you?
Maybe you're in a season where nothing seems to satisfy, or you're carrying pain you can't shake. I've been there, and I want you to know there's hope beyond what you can see right now.
We often chase achievements, relationships, or temporary pleasures, thinking they'll bring fulfillment. But those things rarely address the deeper void inside. Faith isn't about being perfect or having all the answers; it's about finding peace, purpose, and identity beyond the ups and downs of life.
If you feel stuck, lost, or running on empty, know this: God meets you where you are—even in your lowest moments. He doesn't just change your circumstances; He changes you, giving you hope and a foundation to build a life that truly matters.
“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.”