Hello. My name is Chris. Christopher, if you want to be formal.

After all this time I do believe that it is time to introduce myself. Seeing as though I have been somewhat of an enigma all along. I embrace privacy and keep transparency at a distance. Even though my writing style appears to differ from teaching, to preaching, to poetic, from discussing politics to Faith, I can assure you that there are not multiple writers at Refined4Him. It is just little ol’ me. Maybe I have multiple personalities? Me and me and me agree.

I must confess that, yes I do know, I have a unique writing style. Even though I was the pet of my English and Writing teachers in school and college, I am now their worst nightmare. I create new sentences where there should be continuity separated by commas. I personify words such as “Life” and “Faith” to make them seem like they hold the characteristics of a person and not a thought or feeling. The rules of blogging state that you should pick a single niche and stick with it. That you should post several times a week in order to attract an audience via the algorithm. However, here at Refined4Him, anything goes. I set my own rules. Simultaneously, I break them.

I have been a blogger since 2010. Refined4Him.com is the third blog ministry that I have operated. And it is the final. The first “Refined4Him” existed from 2010-present. That is right. It is still floating around out there in cyberspace on the Blogger platform. Somewhere. Out in limbo. However, I have not posted anything there since somewhere between 2016-2017. Its primary purpose was to teach and preach and it all began in May of the year of its inception. I had felt an overwhelming desire to preach. I have no idea where such a desire came from. Because I most certainly am not one to go and do such a thing on my own volition. My Bride insisted that I try blogging. I had no idea what she was saying. Blog? Is that an obese frog (blob+frog=blog)? She set the original site up for me. It originally was titled “Chris Is Refined For Him”. Yeah, no. I changed that very quickly.

I remember my very first blog post like it was written yesterday. I was in an accident. A green Ford Ranger decided to try to drive through our gold Dodge Caravan. I suffered whiplash. Nothing too serious. The van was not even totaled. The other driver was very apologetic and confessed to his inability to pay attention. We made a nonverbal mutual agreement that Life would carry on. However, many people around me were urging me to sue him. To not sign any settlement papers with the insurance company for the payout. To bleed him dry financially. I had written that, because of my faith, that such an action would be immoral and unbiblical. That it would be a poor representation of how Christ would handle the situation. Therefore I signed the settlement and went on my way. I remember my friends and family raving about this post. Erik said that it brought tears to his eyes. Alice printed it out and let Pa read it. He was proud of me. I believe Sherry talked about it at work. My first post got everyone’s attention. Except for my Sister-in-law, who said that she “didn’t want to read/hear what I have to say”. In time Refined4Him (version 1) was a “hit”. It sparked many conversations between friends, co-workers, and family. As a matter of fact a particular post called “Starbucks Church” caused such anger with my Stepmother that she practically “disowned” me and my family. At least that is what Dad told me. It did break my heart, however. Yet at the same time I was amused that Truth could offend someone to that extent. I counted it as an honor to be persecuted. 

However, Life and Time had gotten the best of me…

In 2012 my urge to preach was taken to the next level. It was here that God had called me into full time ministry. More particularly to become Pastor. I was reluctant. “No God! I’m not your man!” I would plead. In time and through much Holy conviction, however, I relented and accepted my calling. A stuttering Moses before the burning bush can relate. I found myself rising in the morning and resting at night with sermons in my head. I would drive by myself, delivering for The Office Furniture Company, preaching sermons out loud before God. I found myself in many situations where someone, even strangers, would come before me seeking counseling and prayer. I would find myself ministering to many. I would have dreams throughout my slumber of doing pastoral duties. It had become apparent to me that these experiences, as well as other evidences, were the confirmation that one would question its validity. This was real. 

“I’m going to be a Pastor.”

In October of 2013 I enrolled in The Wilmington School of The Bible at Liberty University. A sort of miniature seminary for people unable to attend seminary. Simultaneously, my family and I began to attend the Fundamental Baptist/Family Integrated Church. It was here, at this church, that I would meet a man that would have an everlasting impact on my life. Pastor not just invested time into my calling, but he also started a “Bible school” program within the church with the sole purpose of training me (at least in his words). Anyone could have attended the classes, however the main focus was my calling and getting me to the finish line. I actually had the say in the direction of the program. Pastor said that eventually he would love to plant a church with me as Pastor. I was thrilled. Things were happening. Wheels were moving. Doors were opening. My calling was ever the more real.

When I had announced that I was being called to be a Pastor, my family and friends were excited. Mom was bragging. Dad was proud. One of my friends had said “It’s about time!”. Evidently he was expecting it. When I had mentioned to Richard at work that I was going to Liberty (without telling him what for), he got a big smile on his face and excitedly asked “You’re going to be a Pastor?”. Evidently he too was expecting it. Even my own grandmother Doris had told me when I was a teenager that I would be a Pastor some day. I just rolled my eyes and said “Yeah right, Grandma!”. Because, as you may have read on this website, I absolutely hated God back then. I also equally hated public speaking. And attention. And… people.

However, something profound and unexpected happened in 2016. Besides my graduation from Liberty. If you have read my blog post “Don’t Look Now (But Satan Is Sitting In The Pew Behind You)”, then you know what it was. If not, then allow me to share with you the short story. Some members of our church had fallen into sin and worldly lust. I do not know what transpired behind closed doors between Pastor and these people. However, they turned on him and our church teachings. The deacons of our church had taken their side in the matter. With no support, Pastor resigned. A Leadership Team was developed with four of the men “pillars” of the church and myself. Two of these men were the said Deacons. The purpose of this team was to oversee the transition of our church from one Pastor to another. To interview potential candidates and to fill the pulpit in the meantime. However, it became more of a battle between The Men and Pastor. In my pursuit of Justice I designated myself as the mediator. I was treated like a traitor by The Men and was at the receiving end of reproach in many of our meetings. It was during this time that I fell into deep depression and my old sinful habits. Wicked thoughts crossed my mind that I dare not repeat. My Darkest Hour. Sleepless nights followed me around like a lost dog looking for a handout. After I had announced the resignation of my position on the team, as well as the hint of our leaving the church, The Men abruptly shut and locked the doors the following Sunday after service. Hymns and worship, God’s Truth spoken, now to succumb to cobwebs and dust.

It was during this closing of the church that something yet even more profound had taken place. Something that I could not have imagined was even possible. Because Pastor, who was my mentor and guide to see me into the pulpit, had left. Moved away to a different state and vacated the ministry. Because I had fallen into My Darkest Hour so far that I had become numb to the things of God. The Holy Spirit quenched. Because I had unknowingly turned my back on God. These reasons had seen the wheel stop turning. The happenings became idle. The open doors became like the doors of our church. It became apparent to me that God had uncalled me from the ministry. I was in denial. But in time I had grown to accept it.

Not since then has another mentor risen. I have mentioned this abandoned calling to other pastors, with the hopes that they would take up the mantle. Only to hear a flippant “Ok”, or “That’s nice”, as the conversation would move on as if I had never made mention of it. And those people that once spoke of my calling with pride? Never once have spoken of it since then. There have never been any questions such as “Whatever happened to…?”. It is almost as if I was never called. As if it was annulled. As if it was all a dream that never happened.

However I bore the curse that all Pastors (although I never became a pastor) have when they have been disqualified from the pulpit. I still desired to preach.

In 2018 I created the second blog ministry, called “The Walk To Remember” (not to be confused with the movie “A Walk To Remember”). The purpose of this blog ministry was solely Christian encouragement. No preaching. No teaching. Essentially it was what you would read in a daily devotional. I would write of an experience that I had in my life, only to tie it into Faith. Unlike the first iteration of Refined4Him, TWTR went viral. I had amassed a following on social media. Many views per post. Comments and interactions with total strangers. I had stumbled upon a niche that worked. For once. When I had written about losing our daughter Abigail (on this current website as the page “Abigail’s Story”), it had more views than anything that I had posted combined. My Bride’s OB/GYN, Dr. Harding, had read it weeping with his wife. My friend Erik printed it out and read it to his church. Evidently not a dry eye in the house. Many people moved. Many people touched. Many people encouraged. This was the purpose for what I pursued with TWTR. However, not long after this moment, something changed. The algorithm at Facistbook did not like my writings anymore. And Twitter offered no traction. Suddenly my posts became shadow banned. I could not even find my own posts anymore. I also noticed that some of my followers were of The Alternative. Granted, they should be ministered to. However, what I was writing would fail miserably at conviction. Because I was tickling ears with feel good messages. It was as if I was striving to write for Guideposts. Saints and sinners alike would agree on my generic and anemic approach to The Gospel. I had become dissatisfied with my writing. This, coupled with the fact that my posts were suddenly invisible to the eye, helped me realize that I was in an uphill battle that I was not able to win. Less than a year after its inception, I terminated The Walk To Remember.

For the next few years I wandered in the wilderness, so to speak. I was spiritually dead. Without purpose. My calling revoked. Broken. However, in the back of my mind, I could not shake the desire to speak. But after two failed attempts at blogging and being a pastor, I felt that it was no longer worth the effort. Then came the 2020 election. Overnight, through manipulation, Joe Biden received more votes than any politician in history and became the next U.S. President. Soon after his inauguration conservatives and Christians were being deplatformed. There was a desire from The Left to completely silence The Right. Which, naturally, would include the voice of The Christian. Platforms such as Gab, Mewe, Parlr, and Rumble became popular within a short span of time. All providing an alternative to fascist platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. The Left became emboldened. They now had power. Demonic influence poured into the streets. Conservatism and Christianity were threatened. I had debated myself on going into hiding. I considered eliminating my previous Refined4Him website (assuming that I could still remember how to sign into it). I considered the elimination of my YouTube account because of the content that I had been watching. I considered eliminating my Facistbook page because of the history of what I have shared. And if I did, then my prayer was that its preservation on the web would have been miraculously wiped clean. No history of my own existence on social media or my blog ministries. I did not want Biden’s Gestapo arriving at my door to ruin me and my family.

But then I stopped myself in my tracks. “Wait a minute!” I told myself. “What am I doing? Would cowering in fear and running away be what God would want of me? Elijah ran from Jezabel, but he also stood boldly on Mount Carmel before hundreds of prophets just moments prior. And God reprimanded him for hiding.” So I too had become emboldened. I decided to throw myself into the blogging ring for the third and final time. This time it was not solely to preach and teach like the first Refined4Him. It was not to encourage with warm fuzzies like The Walk To Remember. This time it was to declare war. This time it was to set my sights on The Enemy. To use my gift to tear down his dark kingdoms that were growing like cancer across our world. Unapologetically my goal was to hurt Evil. To make it scream out in agony. To make it bleed. Even if it hurt the people that embraced it.

Refined4him.com was born on the Ides of March in 2022.

The second iteration.

My purpose this time was to introduce pain to The Enemy. To incorporate all of my writing techniques and niches into one. I preach. I teach. I encourage. No topic is off limits. From The Modern Christian and The Modern Church, all the way to The Left. No one is immune. I have tackled many lies of the day that have been perpetrated by the Father of Lies. I have touched on homosexuality and transgenderism (“The Alternative” series). I have touched on Critical Race Theory (“The Division” series). I have spoken on abortion (“The Blood of The Innocents” series). I have briefly spoken on Climate Change (“Skyfall”). Even the Covid-19 farce was not immune (“The Sickness” series). I had covered both the 2022 and 2024 elections. I had spoken on the Charlie Kirk assassination. I had tackled the weakness of Modern Christianity and the hypocrisy of the Modern Christian. I have answered questions on whether Christians should drink alcohol, smoke, curse, and get tattoos. I even reposted a series from the original Refined4Him about the degradation of mankind (“Decay” series). Nothing was safe from me. Unapologetically.

But from the beginning it has always been a struggle. All along from May of 2010, all the way until the writing of this post. It is true that my readership has ebbed and flowed. But for the most part it never reached more than one or two. To me this has always been my church. I the “pastor”. It has been exhausting to dedicate myself to the message when only one person was sitting in the pew. During the times of Bible School I would go an entire year without posting on the original Refined4Him. Only occasionally sharing a paper that I wrote in class in order to fill the void of time. I have struggled to continue with the second Refined4Him. Many uphill battles against Time and Life as my day jobs would often derail my work and motivation. However, the greater burden is to hear your own words echo back to you. Because there is no one there to absorb what you have spoken.

So then why did I do it? Why did I continue? Why did I linger for so long after the dust settled on the pews?

Because I had a desire to reach people for Christ. To lead them to Christ. To open their eyes. To lift them up. To stand with them in Spiritual Warfare. A nagging in my heart to preach. That is what started all of this. And I have persevered despite this. Even if I was the only one reading my own words. Just like the old tale of the man that was called to preach in the forest. Upon his arrival he had seen no one. Thinking how absurd it was, he began to preach to nothing more than the pines. Only he did not realize that a lone lumberjack had come by to retrieve some tools. Upon hearing the preacher’s voice he hid and heard the entire Gospel message preached. Unbeknownst to the pastor his words led the man to Salvation. That is why I have continued in this labor of love. That is why I continued to put my hand to the plow. If I could reach only one.

This is why I did it. 

However, I had wrestled with the idea of hanging it all up many times over the past few years. Thoughts of sitting on the porch of my mind with my coffee, remembering when I pursued the urge to preach. Whether it was for a blog, or for my calling as a pastor. Reminiscing about the things said, and considering the things left unsaid. About the few people that were moved in some capacity, and those offended. But I told myself that I must carry on for the hope of those few. Then I gave myself an ultimatum. “At least make it to the 100th blog post”.

This is that post.

So as I close this chapter in my life, the question remains. Is this the end? Will I continue on for the sake of my urge to speak? Or will I allow it to tear apart my mind as I force it into silence? Will I shut this down and let the domain name expire in February, only to watch my work be dragged into an obscure memory? Or will I take this into a whole new direction? A level that no one could have ever imagined? The answer is that I do not know. Only God knows.

Until the next chapter…