Under Attack, Still on Assignment
I’m not going to not be human and pretend like I’m high and mighty.
There’s that little temptation that says, just go off into the world. It would be so much less painful. You wouldn’t get attacked as much.
I don’t know how true that statement is.
Actually, no—those are the lies of the enemy. It’s not true.
I would just be lost.
I’m sure I wouldn’t be attacked the same way, but there would still be turmoil. He lets you have your little season. He lets it feel easier. But it’s all a facade.
It’s not real peace.
But I am human, so those thoughts come. Those little seconds show up, and yeah, it gets tempting.
But that’s not me.
It’s not in my character. It’s not in my personality anymore. It’s like I’ve changed.
Not that that was really me before, but I was easily swayed, easily persuaded in different directions.
And when you start knowing God—when you start trying to live for Him, serve Him, honor Him—when you hold Him high like you’re supposed to, you get attacked.
Spiritual attacks.
You hear it all the time—rebuke the devil and he will flee.
And I do.
I rebuke. I pray. I do everything I’m supposed to do.
And then it comes back.
And then it hits again.
And then I pray again.
What I learned today is this—it’s nonstop.
It’s consistent. It’s persistent.
A persistent dark realm that just keeps hitting you.
And you have to stay in prayer constantly.
You have to stay close to God.
You have to learn what the weapons are that He gives you, and you have to learn how to use them so that nothing—no weapon shaped against you—
“No weapon formed against you shall prosper.” — Isaiah 54:17
There’s nothing too great for Him.
So yeah, I’m getting attacked.
My mind is getting hit. My heart is getting hit.
He knows exactly where to hit me.
But I’m in constant prayer.
And I’m doing God’s work.
I’m on a mission from God.
I know that sounds kind of Blues Brothers-ish. I can hear Dan Aykroyd’s voice saying it.
Even in pain, I’m blessed.
I’m sitting in my car right now.
This car was blessed to me by Leilani.
There’s a cross hanging from the mirror, reminding me God’s got my back.
There are two buckets of flowers in the back seat.
Flowers all around me.
Saturday I hit Rockport. Then Portland yesterday.
Now I’m heading toward Corpus today.
I don’t fully know where I’m going, but I know I’m going.
I have an idea.
We’ll see what the evening brings.
Earlier, I had to call one of my brothers from church, Raymond, because I needed guidance.
I had a situation.
I needed to figure out if I could share a good deed I was about to do.
Because I know you’re supposed to do your good deeds in private and not talk about them and wasn't sure about the rules to that.
In this case, I needed to involve someone, and I didn’t want to ruin anything between me and God.
I’ve already experienced what happens when you do.
I shared a good deed once with someone close to me. I wasn’t doing it for validation or praise. I was just happy. Happy that I helped someone. Happy that they were happy.
And somehow it got twisted.
Turned into something wrong.
And it hurt me.
That’s when I understood—this is probably why you don’t share your good deeds.
Because people judge. People misunderstand. People can take something good and make it look ugly.
So ever since then, I’ve kept things to myself.
But this time, I couldn’t.
There was a gatekeeper between me and getting this done.
So I asked Raymond.
Is it okay to involve someone?
And what I learned was this:
If you’re doing it for validation—stay quiet.
But if you need someone's help to carry out the deed—then you bring them in.
You’re not announcing it. You’re executing it.
God knows your heart!
And he told me—pray first.
So I did.
Then I moved.
And I brought him into the blessing.
He was happy about it.
So if you’re reading this and you’re hesitating, this is your sign.
If it’s something good and you need someone involved—pray, then do it.
So I got the flowers.
Took them home.
Cleaned them.
Cut the stems.
I’m starting to have a flow—cutting stems, and I got more zip ties.
Got my buckets filled, about two to three inches of water in each five-gallon bucket.
Threw away the scraps.
Loaded everything into the car.
That’s the process right now:
Get the flowers.
Take them home.
Clean them.
Cut them.
Put them in buckets.
Throw away the trash.
Load the car.
Drive to a location.
Get permission.
Then sit in the car or the lobby and make the bouquets.
Then go in.
Walk the halls.
Knock on doors.
Hit the common areas.
Hand them out.
The only thing I worry about is not having enough.
It took me a while, but I made about twenty bouquets. Maybe a little under.
The location was different this time—a retirement home.
Not as straightforward.
But I adjusted.
I still got flowers into people’s hands.
And they appreciated them.
I shared a video of my mom playing the ukulele with one of the residents.
I talked with Christian at the front desk. Very kind person.
We talked about what I was doing, how it started, and my mom—how she used to volunteer and bring joy into places like this. And actually, so far, the places I’ve covered include this one.
That small moment took me away from everything I’ve been dealing with.
Seeing people happy matters.
After I wrapped it up, I did a couple small performances of the new songs I’ve been working on for the EP.
It’s a dark pop project.
And I’ll be honest, I’ve been on the fence about it spiritually.
It doesn’t fully align with the shift I’m in right now.
But artistically, it works.
And even spiritually, in a different way, it works because it shows contrast—where I was and where I’m going.
So I don’t feel bad about it.
I think it’s something I have to do.
I only have four songs, and that’s all I need.
They’re about everything I’ve been feeling—sadness, depression, grief.
I don’t want to relive it, but it marks where I was.
And after that, I can move into something that lifts the soul and spirit.
There was one resident Christian told me about.
She had lost her husband.
She had serious health issues, including an amputation.
She had been through a lot.
I went to her room, but she wasn’t there.
So I left the bouquet with the front desk, and they said they would get it to her.
I don’t know how that works.
But I’ve seen enough to know it matters.
That’s the prescription I have right now for anyone and everyone until I’m done doing this mission.
Flowers.
I still had some bouquets left.
So I went to see my friend Robert.
He had a newborn—Maribella Dolores Castillero, born April 25, 2026.
I gave him flowers for his whole family—for him, his mom, his baby mama, and the newborn.
Flowers for new life.
New life born into the world.
He invited me in, and we talked.
I didn’t mention the floral mission. Just real life.
He’s going through a lot.
His father was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago. Had surgery a week later. Still recovering.
His mother fell the day before the baby was born. She’s not doing well.
So he’s dealing with all of that at once.
And somehow, he’s managing.
And maybe that’s what we do sometimes—just manage.
Leaving there hurt, but it also showed me something.
There’s brotherhood. There’s support.
We’re there for each other.
I just wish things were better—for him, for me, for everyone.
I guess that’s the reality.
We’re all just managing here. Trying to make it.
We may not see what we want on this side of heaven, but that’s what God’s promises are for.
That things will be better one day.
Maybe not in this lifetime.
But one day.
The other side.
Now I’m heading home.
I still have about six bouquets left.
I’ll keep them alive and find people for them tomorrow.
I also accepted another job.
So I’m about to lose all my free time.
Early mornings. Late nights. Back-to-back work.
This mission might be at risk.
But I talked to my dad, and he’s going to help carry it.
He wants to learn the process so he can continue it too.
So the mission continues.
And apparently, so does life.
While I was at work earlier, I reached out to Jerry and Ofelia—newly found relatives on my father’s side, both in the ministry.
I asked for prayer.
I wasn’t doing well.
I was being attacked—mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
I was praying. Rebuking. Trying to stay focused.
But it was constant.
You can’t let up.
You have to stay in prayer.
Stay in scripture.
Read the Bible. Listen to audiobooks of the Bible. Listen to Christian music.
Surround yourself with things of God.
Because what you take in matters.
You’re like a sponge.
If you’re not careful, cracks will open in your life.
And that’s how the enemy gets in.
So you have to be careful.
Be careful what your eyes see. Be careful what your ears hear.
Like that song:
Be careful, little eyes, what you see.
Be careful, little eyes, what you see.
I don’t even know the name of it.
But it’s real.
This whole thing feels like a full-time job.
But it’s a blessing.
And like Raymond says—it’s not for you.
Not even fully for them.
It’s for God.
The deed is for God.
And that can’t be forgotten.
And while I was in the backseat of my car, preparing those bouquets in the parking lot of that retirement home, I felt it.
The attack.
The pressure.
The pain.
But I was still doing it.
Still moving.
Still on assignment.
And it felt like a quiet laugh in the face of Satan.
Because he couldn’t stop it.
He couldn’t take it away.
That was a loss for him.
And a win for God.
I’m hurting.
I’m being attacked.
But I’m still on assignment.
All the while, since I’ve been on assignment—what I’m calling it now, The Flower Assignment—this mission from God that involves flowers…
There are people on my heart that I continue to pray for.
That God protects them, guides them, and brings them peace.
Your name is in the prayer of many believers, your name is going up. God is hearing it. God hears you, and He will take care of it. He’s got your back.
And my prayer for you is this:
May God destroy all the evil things that are attacking you.
May angels guard you.
May the blood of Jesus cover you.
May God protect your heart, mind, soul, and body—and lead you closer to Him.
In Jesus' name. Amen.
You can adjust this prayer for yourself too.
The lies are from the enemy.
The confusion is of the enemy.
Lean not on your own understanding.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.
— Proverbs 3:5
Put on the full armor of God.
And then come do something beautiful with me.
Join me in the assignment.
We can do this together.
I believe this may be yours too, and I truly believe this will replenish you.
This is good.
This is meaningful.
Come experience it with me.
I'll be waiting for you!
Comments
Post a Comment