From One in 60,000 to One More Step Forward: The Miracle of Not Giving Up

From One in 60,000 to One More Step Forward: The Miracle of Not Giving Up

Today, I share something with genuine excitement—a milestone that might look small to some but feels monumental to me. This has been in the works for about six months. Half a year of trying, tweaking, wondering, praying, editing, applying, and hearing "no" more than a few times. But today, I didn't give up. Today, I took another step forward in becoming the man I believe God is still shaping me into. The milestone? I finally got my blog qualified for monetization. My writing—a craft I’ve spent years building, a voice I’ve leaned into when life felt quiet—is now part of my business. Not a side project, not a maybe-one-day, but a real part of my future.

For those of you who’ve followed my writing journey, you know how much I love it. Writing isn’t a task for me; it’s how I breathe life back into my soul when the world tries to wear it down. It’s how I make sense of the good, the hard, and the holy. My dream has never just been to write—it’s been to write something that matters. To help at least one person. To feel less alone, to find hope, to laugh when the world feels heavy. And one day, to reach enough hearts that my words make a living. Not for the money itself, but because when your calling meets your provision, that’s God at work. That’s the goal.

But today isn’t just about income or algorithms or ad approval.

It’s about not quitting.

It’s about a seed that stayed underground for a long time but finally broke through the soil.

It’s about remembering the moment when I realized just how much impact one person could have on 60,000 souls in one night.

Let me tell you a story.

---

The Garth Brooks Effect

Now, if you know me, you know I grew up in the country. But ironically, I’m not really a country music fan. Never really was. I’ve always been more into lyrics that strike a chord with the soul than fiddles and steel guitars. But a few years ago, someone asked if I’d like to go to a Garth Brooks concert. I figured, why not? I wasn’t expecting much. But that night in Houston, Texas, changed something in me.

It was a warm summer night, probably around 60,000 people in that arena. You could feel the buzz—like static electricity in the air—before the show even started. You know the feeling. A crowd full of strangers becoming a single heartbeat, unified in anticipation. Then Garth came on stage.

Somewhere around halfway through the show, he did something I’ll never forget. He took off his cowboy hat, leaned back, and then forward again. That doesn’t sound like much written down. But in that moment, I swear to you, it felt like the entire energy of the crowd surged toward him when he leaned back—and when he leaned forward, he sent it straight back out. Right into me.

I’m telling you—I felt it in my chest. I felt like I was the only person there.

He did it again. And again—I felt it.

Now I’m not saying it was mystical or magical, but it was definitely miraculous. In a sea of 60,000, I felt like I mattered. Like I was seen. And I’ve never forgotten that. Later, I watched his Netflix documentary, and his brother talked about this very thing. About how Garth has this gift—this ability to make every single person in the crowd feel like they’re the only one in the room.

That stuck with me. Deeply. Because I think that’s what we all want—to be seen. To be heard. To know we matter.

And I realized then that this is my goal too. Not to be Garth Brooks. But to make someone—just one person—feel like they matter. Like they’re the only one in the crowd. Whether through words I write, conversations I have, or prayers I whisper when no one else is looking.

---

The Calling to Continue

Today reminded me that progress often looks like persistence. I was rejected many times trying to get my blog approved for monetization. The first few times, it stung. But every “no” sharpened my commitment. Every closed door made me get better—at writing, at structuring content, at understanding what it really means to serve people through words.

Rejection, I’ve come to learn, is often God’s refining fire.

It’s not punishment—it’s preparation.

Psalm 66:10 says, “For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver.” That’s what this felt like. Not a failure, but a furnace. And today, the silver glints a little more brightly because I didn’t step out of the heat too soon.

Now, no, I’m not standing in front of 60,000 people. Not yet. But I’ve taken a step in that direction. The bigger dream is still alive: to stand in front of a crowd and share truth, hope, and encouragement—to speak in a way that makes people feel known and reminded that God sees them too.

That crowd might look like a blog post today, a speaking event next year, and a stadium someday. But every step matters. Every soul touched counts.

---

What Makes a Disciple in a Digital World

Jesus never had a blog.

But He knew about crowds.

He knew what it meant to feed thousands and still see the one.

He knew how to speak to the masses and yet change the life of the woman at the well.

That’s who I want to be like—not just Garth—but Jesus.

I want to be someone who sees the one in the crowd. Who offers truth, compassion, and presence in a world that often offers filters, fame, and noise.

And so today, I reflect not just on what I accomplished—but on how I can become a better disciple through it.

Here are three ways I believe we can help others and become stronger disciples in the process:

---

1. Speak Life into the One Right in Front of You

We don’t need a stage to make an impact. Sometimes the greatest discipleship happens in the hallway, over coffee, or through a late-night text. Jesus didn’t chase crowds—He responded to the needs right in front of Him. He didn’t heal everyone, but He healed someone every time He showed up.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue…” — Proverbs 18:21

Your words matter. Even if they’re written. Even if you’re not sure if anyone is reading. Speak life anyway.

---

2. Don’t Despise Small Beginnings

Zechariah 4:10 says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”

This blog? It’s a small beginning. But I believe God is rejoicing because I didn’t give up. Because I started. Because I stayed faithful when the results were hidden.

Maybe your dream isn’t public yet. Maybe the thing you’re working on is still underground. But God sees the seed. He waters what we nurture in faith.

Every stadium moment starts with a whisper in private.

---

3. Let Your Miracle Become Someone Else’s Momentum

That moment in the stadium changed me—but it wasn’t about the music. It was about feeling chosen in a crowd. Today, I want to take that same gift and multiply it. That’s what discipleship is—replication. Passing on the miracle.

As Paul told Timothy in 2 Timothy 2:2, “The things you have heard me say… entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.”

Miracles are meant to be shared. They’re not trophies—they’re torches.

The more we help others feel seen, the more we help them believe in a God who sees them too.

---

Closing Thoughts: The Long Game of Obedience

If today’s milestone taught me anything, it’s that the dream is never just about the outcome—it’s about the obedience.

Writing is my offering.

Encouragement is my mission.

And persistence is my praise.

There’s still a long road ahead. But today was a step. A confirmation. A reminder that God honours what we keep placing in His hands. That every “no” was setting up today’s “yes.”

So if you’re reading this and you’re still in the middle of your own version of waiting, trying, and being rejected—don’t give up. The seed is still good. The ground is still holy. And your obedience is still worth it.

And if you’ve ever wondered what your purpose is—maybe it’s not about the size of your audience. Maybe it’s about the size of your heart.

If you can make just one person feel like they’re not invisible—that they matter—then you’re already doing Kingdom work.

Today, I did something that matters to me. I hope it matters to you too.

And if it does, then that’s all the confirmation I need to keep writing.

To God be the glory, in every blog post, in every email, in every silent prayer typed into a screen hoping someone, somewhere, will read it and say:

“I felt like I was the only one in the crowd. And I felt seen.”