Mitchell Mathis

Let go and let God. Luke 6:27-36. Gratitude before multiplication.

[Gilbert F. Dabari @SkyVirginSon]

I want to reflect on something that has completely reshaped how I understand my faith, my suffering, and my daily struggle to remain close to God.

The Holy Eucharist.

Not as a symbol. Not as a memory. Not as a spiritual metaphor.

But as Jesus Christ Himself, truly present—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.

The Church has always believed this, even when the world finds it difficult to accept. In John 6, Jesus does not soften His language. He does not correct the crowd by saying “It is only symbolic.” Instead, He intensifies the teaching. And many walk away. Yet He does not call them back to reinterpret His words. He lets the truth stand.

This is where my faith either becomes real or remains superficial.

Because if Christ is truly present in the Eucharist, then everything changes.

It means the Mass is not an obligation I attend when convenient. It becomes the center of my entire life. It means I am not simply going to “pray,” I am going to Calvary made present. I am going to stand where Heaven touches earth in the most real way possible.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church is clear: the Eucharist is “the source and summit of the Christian life” (CCC 1324). Not one devotion among many. Not an optional spiritual practice. The source. The summit. The beginning and the end of everything.

I have come to understand that my spiritual weakness is often not because God is distant, but because I have been distant from the Eucharist in heart, attention, and reverence.

There is a quiet tragedy in becoming familiar with something so sacred that it no longer shakes us.

The saints never lost this awe.

St. Peter Julian Eymard said that the Eucharist is the “supreme proof of the love of Jesus.” St. Teresa of Ávila lived from Mass to Mass, understanding that everything in between was sustained by what she received at the altar. Even the martyrs carried this belief into death, preferring to lose everything rather than deny the Real Presence.

And I ask myself honestly:

Do I approach the Eucharist like someone encountering God… or like someone fulfilling a routine?

Because if I truly believed I was receiving Christ, I would prepare differently. I would repent more seriously. I would love more purely. I would forgive more quickly. I would stop treating sin lightly.

The Eucharist does not simply comfort the soul. It converts it.

But conversion requires reverence, and reverence requires faith that is awake.

This is why the Mass is not just prayer—it is sacrifice. The one sacrifice of Christ on Calvary made present in an unbloody manner, offered to the Father for the salvation of the world. Heaven is not imagined during Mass. Heaven is entered.

So I have been learning to slow down inside my own soul.

To stop rushing through sacred things.

To stop treating divine mysteries like ordinary moments.

And instead to say with quiet fear and love:

Lord, I am not worthy, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

If there is one thing I want to leave in the heart of anyone reading this, it is this:

Do not reduce the Eucharist to familiarity. Return to awe. Return to reverence. Return to belief.

Because everything in the spiritual life either grows from this mystery or slowly weakens without it.

And I have found this to be true in my own life:

The closer I come to the Eucharist with faith, the more I come alive.

Not emotionally.

Spiritually.

In Christ.

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

@TJStats Thoughts on Steele Hall?

[Talk Church @churchtalkative]

It’s more than just baseball to this man ✝️

The "Jesus Fish" 🐟, also known as the Ichthys or Ichthus, is an ancient symbol with deep roots in early Christianity. Its simple outline of a fish was more than just a design—it carried profound meaning and served as a secret code for Christians during times of persecution under the Roman Empire.

The word "Ichthys" comes from Greek, where it serves as an acronym: Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter, translating to Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior. Early Christians used this symbol to discreetly identify one another. For instance, one person might draw half of the fish in the sand, and if the other completed it, their shared faith was confirmed without risking exposure.

[Adam Ryan 🤝 @AdamRy_n]

Aldon Smith passed away this weekend. Most people are talking about his incredible ability, potential, and performance as a football player.

Even though that is all true. He was so much more than that. He was a great friend and his kindness changed my life forever.

I met Aldon our freshman year at Mizzou. He was redshirted and relatively unknown as an athlete. His giveaway was the biggest hands you'll ever see and his ability to dunk at 250lbs, but his size in many ways didn't match his personality. He was relatively quiet and in most scenarios would try to shrink into the room vs stand out in it.

Over the course of the next year, we became close. We were very different people, from different places, but we both connected on the feeling of being a bit lost in the beginnings of adulthood. That year, I never really thought about him as a football player. He was just this gentle giant who loved to play video games and talk about life.

His sophmore year he broke the single season sack record at Mizzou, became an All American, and his life changed forever.

He became a celebrity on campus. He became a household name in Missouri. He became a top NFL draft prospect.

I remember how crazy his life became, and how quickly. ESPN doing interviews. Fancy cars being "loaned" to him. And people everywhere inserting themselves into his life.

Despite the craziness, my friend was always a text away.

My junior of college, I decided to take my first stab at entrepreneurship. I wanted to launch a chapter of Camp Kesem.

Kesem is a summer camp for children whose parents have been affected by cancer. The camp would be totally free and be a chance for a kid to experience the magic of being a kid again. As a son of a breast cancer survivor the idea of being able to create this camp in Missouri meant the world to me.

The Livestrong Foundation was hosting a nation wide contest to win $10,000 as seed capital to get started. To win, you had to have the most votes.

I tried really freaking hard to win that competition. I was going up against some really influential people at huge schools. As a somewhat awkward kid in Columbia, MO I had no chance.

So I asked my friend Aldon for a favor. I asked him if he would help me out and promote the link to vote.

He did more than just posting about Kesem on Facebook, skyrocketing us into the top place in the country. He kept supporting me the next 3 years while I was working on building Kesem.

He showed up to have fun with the kids. He helped me fundraise. He helped me get Kesem to become an official organization sponsored by the NFLPA so he could publicly endorse us as as a player.

Since then Torry Holt, Larry Fitzegerald, and many others have supported Kesem. But Aldon was the first.

Kesem led me to move to Austin to work for the Livestrong Foundation. Kesem is how I met my wife. Kesem gave me the confidence to start Workweek and continue the path of building something from scratch.

But in reality, Aldon enabled all those things.

Throughout the years we had many amazing memories together. Having my wife and I vacation to his house in San Jose. Going to New Orleans for the Super Bowl and seeing his entire family make the trip. Meeting his son and watching him be a dad. The hilarious night we met Derek Jeter. Having the most intellectual conversations about life while playing Call of Duty.

I also saw him struggle. There's no doubt he was a complicated person. Truthfully, I don't know if he ever really figured out who he wanted to be. I know just because your'e 6'4, 250lbs, and get 5.5 sacks in a single NFL game doesn't necessarily mean you want to be a football player. No matter the reasons, he made many bad decisions in his life. Some of those mistakes made it hard for me to stay as close as we'd once been.

One day, not too long ago, I just decided to text him. It had been years since we really chatted. I just wanted to say thank you for all that he had done for me and that I was sorry I wasn't there for him more through his struggles. We FaceTimed after that, and it was like the old days all over again.

Aldon was more than the headlines, the mistakes. He was a generous, gentle soul, a kid at heart, someone who was endlessly curious about life... all in the body of a world class NFL player, bearing the weight of professional pressure and personal circumstances that most of us can't even imagine.

People are complex. People who make bad decisions can also do great things. A person can be hated by almost everyone and, yet, there are people in that person's life who still love them deeply.

I learned many of these lesson due to Aldon, and I'll carry them with me forever.

Rest in peace, Aldon. You won't be forgotten.

[Lj Priest (Formerly Trader Jill) @RealTraderJill]

Dear @McJuggerNuggets,

You just asked the world for empathy and sympathy because you aborted your unborn baby because you found out he had Downs Syndrome.

I'm not sure if this is some sick humiliation ritual, or you and your wife are simply dead inside, but I'd like to show you what you just ended for the sake of convenience:

[Sports Radio 810 WHB @SportsRadio810]

There's a new banner going up at Johnson County Community College 👀

Congrats to NJCAA National Champions @JCCCBaseball!

[Noah Sharp @The_Noah_Sharp]

AND THE 2026 @JUCOWorldSeries CHAMPIONS WITH A RECORD OF 67-3 THE JOHNSON COUNTY CAVALIERS BRING THE FIRST EVER BASEBALL NATIONAL TITLE BACK TO OVERLAND PARK!

[AWRE Sports @AWRE_Sports]

One of the most memorable seasons in all of baseball’s long history culminates tonight. Johnson County Baseball went from a relatively unknown story, to America’s team seemingly overnight. Now, they have a chance to put a bow on an already incredible season defined by bombs, a 40+ game win streak, and extremes on the media spectrum.

The Cardiac Cavs are here, and they’re doing it their way.

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

Let’s go!!!!!!

[Noah Sharp @The_Noah_Sharp]

CARDIAC FREAKING CAVS!

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

Only if we all could think this way. Much needed reminder to always love thy neighbor.

[Dana Rachel 🇻🇦 @thyflameoflove]

St. Thérèse of Lisieux once admitted something many people do not expect from a saint.

There was a sister in her convent who irritated her constantly.

Not a terrible person. Not openly cruel. Just someone who got under her skin in small, daily ways. Thérèse honestly wrote that “a holy nun of our community annoyed me in all that she did.”

Most people would avoid someone like that.

Thérèse chose something harder.

She remembered that love is not just a feeling. She wrote, “I remembered that charity ought to betray itself in deeds, and not exist merely in the feelings.” So instead of becoming cold, sarcastic, or impatient, she made a decision to love this sister through actions.

She smiled at her.
Spoke gently to her.
Prayed for her often.
Looked for the good in her soul.

Even when she did not feel like it.

And when conversations started becoming tense, Thérèse chose peace over proving herself right. She followed this wisdom: “It is more profitable to leave everyone to his way of thinking than to give way to contentious discourses.” Sometimes she quietly stepped away so frustration would not turn into sin.

That part matters.

Sometimes people defend impatience and harshness as “just being honest.” But Thérèse understood that self-control and charity are also signs of spiritual maturity.

Over time, the sister noticed how kind Thérèse always was and asked why she treated her so gently. Thérèse later explained the reason. She was trying to love Jesus hidden within that sister’s soul.

That is real charity.

Not loving only when it feels easy.
Not loving only people who agree with you.
Not loving only when you get something back.

But choosing love anyway.

In a culture where people quickly cut others off, expose them publicly, and end relationships over disagreements, do you think Christians today are becoming less patient with difficult people?

💬 What is harder for you personally: forgiving someone or continuing to treat them kindly afterward?

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

@The_Noah_Sharp Thoughts on Harford a 10 seed? Seems strange to me.

[Tim Tebow @TimTebow]

Attitude is a choice.
Gratitude is a discipline.
Bitterness is expensive.

Nobody accidentally has a great attitude.
Nobody stumbles into gratitude.
And nobody means to end up bitter, it just quietly moves in when you stop choosing something better.
Guard your peace like it cost you something.
Because it did.

[Gilbert F. Dabari @SkyVirginSon]

Sunday Mass. Even if Catholics already go to church every single day.

➮ Ever wondered why? Here’s what most people don’t know:

↳ Sunday is not just tradition, it goes back to the Resurrection of Jesus

↳ The first Christians gathered every Sunday to break bread together

↳ For Catholics, Sunday Mass is not optional, it is a sacred obligation

↳ Missing it without serious reason is considered a grave matter

↳ Daily Mass is extra devotion. Sunday Mass is the heartbeat of the faith.

➮ One is going beyond what is required.
➮ The other is the minimum, and Catholics take it seriously.

Sunday Mass is 𝗡𝗢𝗡-𝗡𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 for every Catholic. Rain. Travel. Busy schedule. No excuse.

But here is something that might surprise you…

Catholics do not go to Mass to be seen or to follow rules.

They go because they believe Jesus, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, is truly present on that altar.

That is why no Catholic who truly believes ever skips Sunday.

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

@dissidentwest @fisherman007ho1 John 15:18
“If the world hates you, realize it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own but because you do not belong to the world and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you”
Stay the course brother. One day it will all click.

[Stefan Moore ★ @2StefanMoore]

A final piece of advice from Holly Butcher - written the day before she passed away from cancer at just 27:

“It’s a strange thing knowing you’re going to die young.

At 26, I thought I had time…
To fall in love.
Start a family.
Grow old.

But cancer doesn’t care about plans.

Now, I understand how fragile life really is. Every single day is a gift, not a guarantee.

I’m not writing this to scare you. I’m writing to remind you: really live.

Stop stressing over little things. Be kind to your body- move it, nourish it, stop criticizing it. One day you’ll wish you had appreciated it.

Go outside.
Look at the sky.
Feel the sun.
Just be.

Spend less time chasing “stuff” - more time making memories. Don’t skip moments with people you love.

Laugh more.
Write a note.
Tell someone you love them.

Complain less.
Give more.
Helping others brings more joy than anything you can buy.

Be present.
Put your phone down.
Show up - really show up.

You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need a perfect body, or a perfect life.

Just follow what makes your heart light up. Say no to what drains you. Make changes when you need to.

And please - donate blood. I wouldn’t have had that extra year without it. And that year gave me memories I’ll hold close… forever.

Thank you for reading this.
Live your life well.

And maybe… we’ll meet again someday.”

Holly 🩷

Repost & share Holly’s important advice. ❤️

[Anna Lulis @annamlulis]

Get married. Have kids. Follow Christ.

This is what will change culture.

[Mitchell Mathis @mitch9725]

@gpark01

[Jared Davis @JaredDavis2028]

Why do I do this to myself everyday

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

Jesus rose from the dead and the first person He went to was His brother who thought He was crazy.

Not Peter. Not John. Not the twelve.

James.

His kid brother. The one who grew up sharing a room with God and didn’t know it.

Think about James for a second. His older brother is Jesus. Not “Jesus the Christ.” Not “Jesus the Savior.” Jesus the guy who worked in the carpenter shop and came home smelling like sawdust and sweat. Jesus who snored. Jesus who ate too fast. Jesus who their mother treated different and James never understood why.

Because Mary kept her mouth shut.

Luke 2:19. She kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. Angels showed up at His birth. Shepherds fell on their faces. Wise men brought gold. And Mary told nobody. She just watched her firstborn grow up in a ghetto in Nazareth and kept the secret in her chest like a coal she couldn’t put down.

James didn’t know his brother was God.

He knew his brother was weird.

He knew his mother looked at Jesus different. He knew Joseph moved the whole family to Egypt when they were little and never fully explained why. He knew that one time his parents lost Jesus at the temple and found Him three days later arguing with rabbis like He owned the place. Twelve years old. Already gone.

Then Jesus grew up. Worked the shop. Paid the bills.

Because Joseph died — the Bible doesn’t say when but Joseph disappears from the story — and in Jewish custom the eldest son takes over. So Jesus wasn’t posing for paintings in that carpenter shop. He was feeding His family. Putting bread on the table for His mom and His brothers and sisters in a town so poor Nathanael said “can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Then one day He left.

Walked away from the shop. Walked away from the family. Left James holding the hammer and the bills and the responsibility for a widowed mother.
James was pissed.

Mark 3:21. His own family went to collect Him because they said He was out of His mind. That’s James. That’s the brothers. Showing up to bring the crazy one home before He embarrasses the family worse.

John 7:5. His brethren did not believe in Him.
His own blood. Ate dinner with Him for thirty years. Didn’t believe.

Then Wednesday happened.

The brother James thought was insane got arrested at night by temple guards. Got beaten until His face swelled shut. Got whipped until His back looked like raw meat. Got nailed to wood and hung up on a garbage hill outside the city.

And James had to stand somewhere — maybe in the crowd, maybe at home, maybe hearing it secondhand — and process the fact that the brother he called crazy just died like a criminal.

Three days and nights of silence.

Three days of James sitting with the guilt of every eye roll. Every argument. Every time he told people “I don’t know what’s wrong with Him.” Every time he showed up to drag Jesus home because He was embarrassing the family name.

Then Sunday morning.

Jesus rose. Conquered death. Walked out of the tomb.
And He went to James.

1 Corinthians 15:7. He appeared to James.

Not in a crowd. Not at a distance. He went to His brother. The one who didn’t believe. The one who thought He was crazy. The one who was pissed that He left the family behind.

He showed up and let James see the holes in His hands.
Matthew 28:10. Go tell my brethren. Not my servants. Not my followers. My brethren.

John 20:17. My Father and your Father. My God and your God.

He rose to the highest position in the universe and His vocabulary didn’t change.

Most men get a promotion and stop returning phone calls. Jesus conquered death and called the brother who doubted Him family.

James went from “He’s out of His mind” to leading the church in Jerusalem.

James went from trying to drag Jesus home to writing a book of the Bible.

James went from skeptic to martyr. They threw him off the temple wall and when he survived the fall they beat him to death with a club. He died for the brother he once thought was insane.

That’s what happened when Jesus showed up after the resurrection and said brother.

One word changed everything.

He’s not calling you servant today.
He’s not calling you subject.
He’s calling you what He called James.
Brother.
The same James who didn’t believe. Who rolled his eyes. Who showed up to take Him home. Who sat in the dark for three days choking on regret.

He went to THAT guy first.

If He went to James, He’ll come to you.

[The Biblical Man @Biblicalman]

Joseph of Arimathea pulled a corpse off a cross with his bare hands.

Blood under his fingernails. The weight of a dead man sagging into his arms.

He wrapped God in linen, pressed the fabric into wounds that were still wet.

Nicodemus brought seventy-five pounds of burial spice. A king's funeral for a man the world just murdered.

They carried Him into a hole in the rock and rolled the stone shut.

And everything you've ever done went in with Him.
Every night you can't sleep because of what you did. Every morning, you can't look in the mirror. The thing you did to her. The thing you did to them. The
lie you've been carrying so long it feels like bone.

The version of you that drinks alone and pretends tomorrow will be different.

That man was buried with Christ.

Stone sealed. Done.
Not managed. Not in therapy. Not on a payment plan with God where you slowly earn your way back. Buried. In a tomb. Under rock. Gone.
Three days of silence. Three days of a cold body in the dark.

Then the stone moved.
And when He walked out, the grave clothes were folded on the slab. He didn't stumble out tangled in death. He left it sitting there like a man who's done
with the clothes he used to wear.
Lazarus needed someone to unwrap him. Death still clung to him even after he was breathing.
Jesus folded His own burial linen and walked out clean.

That's the difference between religion and resurrection. Religion unwraps you slowly. Asks you to manage your sin. Attend the class. Read the book. Try harder next week.
Resurrection says the man who walked into that tomb is dead. The man who walked out doesn't know him.
You're not fixing the old you. The old you is in a sealed tomb in Jerusalem, and he's not coming back.
The man reading this, the one who thinks he's too far gone, you're not too far. You're already buried. The funeral happened two thousand years
ago.
Now get up. The stone's already moved. The linen's already folded.

Walk out.