Deep Calls to Deep

Confession time. Last week, I shared my experience as a Salvation Army bell ringer, where one unexpected act of generosity from someone with very little reminded me of the power of compassion. I also reflected on how my rugged appearance often led people, including a close friend, to overlook me. Here’s the truth: over the last few years, I’ve become much more like those who overlooked me than those who looked me in the eye and acknowledged me. About five years ago, I wanted to teach Will the importance of helping those in need. There was a man who often stood at a busy intersection in town, holding a sign asking for help. Will and I decided to put together a care package—food, supplies, and treats for his dog. We didn’t just hand it off and leave; we introduced ourselves, got his name, and listened to his story. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into years, I noticed the same man in the same spot, holding the same sign, asking for money. Even now, five years later, he’s still there. And here’s my confession: it ticks me off. I’m not proud of this feeling, but I’m being honest. I’ve spent years volunteering at homeless shelters, and I know where the meal sites are in our town. I’ve seen how organizations like Love Chapel provide food, housing, and assistance for those in need. So, it frustrates me that this man seems content to stand on that corner rather than taking steps to move forward. That frustration has made me jaded. I drive a lot for work, and I see people on street corners every day asking for help. Somewhere along the way, I stopped looking at them. I’ve lumped them all into one category—people who only want money with no intention of changing their situation. But I know that’s not fair. It’s not easy to discern every person’s situation. And yes, there are people who misuse what they’re given. I understand that. But my overreaction—ignoring all people in need—has been wrong. Especially now, when so many are facing legitimate and desperate need. A friend recently sent me a note that reminded me why it’s so important to prioritize compassion and see the humanity in others, even when it’s hard. Her story gives a voice to those who are silently suffering: “I was homeless for nearly three years. I felt invisible, worthless, and unlovable. But there were moments of kindness that gave me hope. A man gave me an umbrella on a cold, rainy day. A woman handed me a thick, fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer. Another brought me coffee and donuts while I rested. Those small gestures made me feel like I mattered. Sometimes, just eye contact and a smile can remind someone they’re not invisible—and it costs us nothing.” Her words cut through my cynicism. Compassion doesn’t require perfect judgment; it requires seeing people and reminding them that they matter. Question Do I truly see and acknowledge the humanity in others, or have I let frustration and judgment cloud my compassion? Peace, Brandon

Over the Christmas holiday in 2010, I volunteered as a Salvation Army bell ringer during two of the coldest days of the year. Bundled in layers of clothing, with a hat, gloves, and a thicker-than-normal, bushy beard, I was warm but practically unrecognizable, armed with my trusty giant metal vacuum thermos filled with coffee My subzero bell ringing commenced. At first, I felt awkward. I’m no musician, and my bell-ringing skills were far from rhythmic. It wasn’t long before I wondered if people were donating to silence the offbeat cacophony. My appearance didn’t help—I looked like a rugged drifter shaped by the elements. Even friends walked past me without a glance despite my efforts to make eye contact. Was I invisible? Or were people avoiding me to escape the guilt of not giving? Perhaps my rough appearance triggered snap judgments. Over the four-hour shift, I reflected on these possibilities, watching how people reacted as they approached. Late in the day, a beat-up, rusty 1970s Ford truck pulled up. An elderly woman struggled out of the passenger side, her husband parking the exhaust-spewing vehicle before joining her. After purchasing a few staples, the man walked toward me. He looked me in the eye, wished me a Merry Christmas, and reached into his worn leather pouch to give. It wasn’t a large sum, but more than anyone else had contributed all day. The gesture floored me. This man, whose appearance mirrored my own scruffiness, not only looked at me but gave generously from what little he had. His simple act of kindness sparked a cascade of questions— Did he identify with my rough appearance? Had he experienced judgment before and wanted me to feel seen? Was he once on the receiving end of the Salvation Army’s help? I couldn’t escape the realization that those with less are often the first to give. People like this man—humble and worn—seemed far less likely to judge and far more willing to empathize. As much as I resisted these thoughts, my observations throughout the day continually reinforced them. Near the end of my shift, a friend approached the store. Determined not to let this one pass without acknowledgment, I called out, “Hey! It’s Brandon!” Startled, they turned and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, I thought you were homeless and wasn’t even going to look at you.” The experience left me humbled and reflective. That man in the truck reminded me that true generosity comes not from abundance but from the heart. He saw me, not my disheveled exterior, and gave what he could. His act of kindness made me wish more people had his eyes and his heart, and it reminded me to be less quick to judge and more willing to see. Questions How often do I judge others by their appearance or circumstances, and what might I miss by failing to truly see them? Am I willing to give from the heart as those who have the least to spare? Peace, Brandon #SalvationArmy #RedKettle

What New Year’s resolutions do you have this year? #NewYearsResolution

5-STAR REVIEW: Deep Calls to Deep is the first book I’ve read by Brandon Andress, though I’ve been reading his weekly posts for years. I intended to read this book one entry each day, but often found myself reading several pages at a time because I enjoy Brandon’s writing style and his ability to connect with the reader. He shares his vulnerability in honest and authentic ways and his writing challenges me to pause and reflect on everyday life events, both big and small. I have enjoyed that the book is written in sections which has allowed for me to leave it on my side table and pick it up when I have a chance, read a page, reflect, and pick it up again the next day, or several days later. This book would be a wonderful investment in your personal journey to dig deeper for connections and meaning in your daily life, and the perfect gift to share with others who are on a spiritual journey of their own or who would enjoy insights on making life more meaningful. Thank you, Traci Andresen!

I should have known better with the theatrical release of A Christmas Story two years prior in 1983. But I was eleven and in fifth grade. I had begun the very slow transition from every gift being Star Wars everything to setting my sights on a Levi’s blue jean jacket. Maybe it was seeing Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future or Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club, but I knew I needed a cool upgrade if I wanted to be noticed by the school girls. While this entire post significantly dates me, I should note that I probably ripped the page out of the Sears catalog, circled the jean jacket with my blue Bic ink pen, and put it in an envelope for Santa— or maybe just my parents to discover. Like Ralphie dreaming about a Red Ryder BB Gun, I lay in bed imagining how my life would change once I went to school for the first time wearing my new jacket. Who would be cooler than me? Should they put me in the next Back to the Future movie instead of Michael J. Fox? Life was about to be different for me because of that jacket. I just knew it. But then Christmas Eve happened, and I still wonder how parents could wreck the hopes and dreams of a kid for twelve long hours. How extended family— and likely Santa himself— could be insiders to such an insidious plan. I opened my gifts at my grandparent’s house and received all the usual grandparent gifts. No surprises. I didn’t expect the jacket until Christmas morning anyway. But then, my cousin who is two weeks older than me, opened his gifts. To my shock, my dismay, my utter devastation, the last gift he ripped apart revealed MY JEAN JACKET. Not another type of jean jacket— THE JEAN JACKET I had circled in the Sears catalog. I had been slighted. I had been betrayed. Had my grandparents not been given the right information? Had someone lost my envelope with its very specific instructions? I watched my cousin smile with elation while I sat nauseously, putting my hands through my hair, believing that even the Christ-child was crying in his manger for my misfortune. I suppose waking my parents at 4 am on Christmas Day was my form of retribution. Whether I believed I was getting that jean jacket or not, I still had some Star Wars characters to open up. I can’t remember if it was the first or last gift I opened, but when I tore the wrapping paper of that box and saw that jacket, I cried in crusty-eyed elation. All my hopes and dreams had come true. I would finally be the coolest kid on the block. I may have even put it on and gone back to bed. To this day, we laugh at this story. It’s even funnier with the photos. But as I replay that memory and look at the pictures, I can’t help but think how relevant that story is for us now. We all have hopes, dreams, and aspirations about how we see our lives. We imagine life being one way, but often feels out of reach— or worse, spiraling out of control. In our darkest moments, we feel like all is lost. We can't see any other reality than the devastation we are in. That is the place where our hearts break. Where we want to give up. Where we sit with our heads in our hands, seemingly overcome in defeat. Of course, what you may be going through is far more serious than not getting a jean jacket. But the principle is the same. In the dark of night, it is impossible to imagine the light ever breaking. It is difficult to believe your life ever being different, or your circumstances ever changing. It is hard to visualize a reality in which your pain subsides and transforms you— making you a stronger, more resilient, and filled with greater wisdom and perspective. But listen, the light eventually breaks. And when it does, we often find that the waiting, the disappointment, and the heartbreak were not the end of our story, but the beginning of something greater than we could have ever imagined. That is my hope and my hope for each of you this Christmas. Question When have I faced moments of disappointment or darkness, and how might those experiences have shaped me into a stronger, more hopeful, and resilient person? Peace, Brandon

5-Star Review: Deep Calls to Deep is a collection of daily meditations grounded in Biblical truths which offer hope, inspiration, encouragement and introspection. Brandon Andress has a masterful way of discovering meaning in everyday experiences. Each entry ends with a thought provoking reflection to challenge us in our daily walk. This is a great collection to be read time and again! Thank you, Stephanie Bruther Hootman!

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🎉 LAUNCH DAY ALERT! 📷 I’m beyond thrilled to announce the release of my new book, Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey, Volume 1. In our chaotic, noisy world, we crave peace, healing, and connection. Deep Calls to Deep is your guide to finding that tranquility. Here's what you'll experience: Engaging Stories- Unveil the sacred in the everyday. Guiding Questions: Ignite deep, personal reflection. Daily Practices: Transform spiritual insights into daily life. Perfect for Every Stage of Life - Whether you're young, in your prime, or enjoying your golden years, this book resonates with your journey, fostering growth, healing, and transformation. A Thoughtful Gift - With Christmas just around the corner, Deep Calls to Deep is the perfect present. It's not just a book; it’s an experience that keeps giving, ideal for personal reflection or group discussions. Where to Get Your Copy Signed Copies: Visit Viewpoint Books in Columbus, Indiana, or call 812-376-0778 to have one shipped to you. You can also visit Viewpoint online at tinyurl.com/63xu59t3. Online: Amazon- a.co/d/2ETvc3BBarnes Noble- tinyurl.com/32z8tcvm If you’re ready for a deeper connection to yourself, others, and the sacred, I’d love for you to take this journey with me. Peace, Brandon

Jenny told me on March 4, 2022 that she was over a week late on her period. Let me tell you. When you are an almost 48-year-old man who had a vasectomy over a decade ago and who has three kids (22, 19, and 10), the last thing you want to hear are those words. Like a gray-bearded soldier, hoping he had already fought in his last war, I marched into Fort Walgreens and stealthily purchased a box with two tests. Walking out to my car, I began laughing out loud at the hilarity of my divine comedy. With the bathroom door secure from a potentially wandering 10-year-old, we waited for two minutes that were twenty years. The 99.9% accurate digital test flashed. Pregnant. You have likely heard the phrase build your house upon the rock rather than the sand. The point is that a house built upon the rock is better able to withstand strong winds and heavy storms than one built upon a foundation that easily washes away. I imagine this firm foundation that centers a person and gives solid grounding has to be peace and love. Despite what storms may blow our way, it is the foundation of peace and love that firmly grounds us, enabling us to stand firm. That is why the previous writings have been so insistent upon each of us cultivating a healthy and vibrant inner self. When our center is peace and love, we have the resiliency to handle the most unpredictable life situations. I am glad I have been working on my inner self over the last few months because this was a life situation I never expected. After hugging and nervously laughing, I told Jenny that I am going to pour every ounce of love and wisdom into that kid. It is not the path I imagined us taking at this point in our lives, but I received it with a peaceful soul. I suppose that is what we are all working toward, together. Interestingly enough, after three subsequent pregnancy tests and a fourth from the doctor, it turns out that Jenny is not pregnant. The first test was a false positive. I could have told you that earlier, but I wanted you to have the same experience that we had over that two day period. If you found this post meaningful, #repost or tag someone who would benefit from it. Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey is available everywhere TOMORROW!

The truth, and my hard-earned wisdom, is that joy lies in the creation and sharing, no matter how many people see it. If you found this post meaningful,#repost or tag someone who would benefit from it. Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey is available for preorder! I will be at Viewpoint Books in Columbus, Indiana today from 1-4pm. Stop by or call 812-376-0778 to get your copy!

When you finally carry them into your house, wash them, and place them on the sunny windowsill. When you finally slice the dark red tomato with so much juice pouring out from them. You are appreciative. You are thankful. You see the work of your hands and the delight in your toil. If you found this excerpt meaningful,#repost or tag someone who would benefit from it. Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey is available for preorder!

When I asked him, Will said that the best part of our trip was spending time together on a small, secluded beach, swimming for hours in Lake Superior. It was a powerful reminder that what we need most is not a multitude of things to keep us occupied but rather presence. If you found this post meaningful, #repost or tag someone who would benefit from it.

Feeling tired from a long day at work and not very well, I had been wishing it was a bit later so I could put them to bed. At that exact moment, something hit me, and I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the couch, just listening. I heard Caroline's sweet voice, Anna laughing at her, my wife cleaning up in the kitchen, and Aberdeen, my dog, running around and barking at the girls. It was complete chaos, but the most beautiful chaos I had ever heard. If you found this post meaningful,#repost or  tag someone who would benefit from it.  Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey is available for preorder! LINK IN BIO @brandonandress

#1 - Before I Die brandonandress.com/p/before-…

The summer sun’s warmth quickly disappeared as we found ourselves enveloped by the cold, oppressive walls of the gas chamber. Silence fell over our group, a heavy, suffocating quiet that seemed to echo the horrors once witnessed there. As the door closed behind us, I moved through the crowd, pressing my back against the unsympathetic surface, and closed my eyes. I couldn’t help but imagine the terror felt by the men, women, and children who stood naked in this very spot, waiting for the inevitable. My journey at Auschwitz had begun earlier that day, walking through rooms filled with pictures, names, and stories of the victims—husbands, wives, children, grandparents—each with their own lives, hopes, and dreams. But soon, the rooms transitioned into displays that vividly illustrated the systematic stripping away of their humanity. I saw rooms filled with suitcases, prosthetic limbs, eyeglasses, shoes, and finally, grotesque mounds of human hair. As I exited the gas chamber, numbness settled in. Passing the furnaces designed for burning bodies, I had a chilling realization—once a person’s humanity is taken away, killing them becomes disturbingly easy. It’s tempting to believe that the path to dehumanization began only at Auschwitz. It’s easier still to think that such horrors were isolated, the product of a singular, deranged leader. While these beliefs hold some truth, they fail to capture the broader trajectory of dehumanization and the unsettling reality that we, too, are susceptible to walking the same path. We often see the Holocaust as an isolated evil, as though it emerged without any cultural or psychological precursors. This view, however, ignores the gradual shifts in collective thought that made such atrocities possible—and it leaves us vulnerable to repeating history. The road to Auschwitz began with name-calling and stereotyping. It evolved into enemy labeling, a “we versus they” mentality, dehumanizing language, and images portraying others as morally inferior. These rationalizations eventually led to violence. If we are honest about the current state of our country, we can see a similar path emerging. I am not suggesting that we are necessarily headed toward another Holocaust, but there are undeniable parallels in the precursors. The most significant difference between then and now is the pervasive reach of social media. Social media has created ideological echo chambers that allow groups to form without the limitations of geography. These groups can mobilize instantly to impose their beliefs on others, threatening the “melting pot” idealism that once celebrated diversity. Instead, we are becoming a landscape of ideological “nations,” each convinced it cannot coexist with the others. This environment breeds name-calling and stereotyping, where enemies are declared morally inferior or subhuman. Within these ideological “nations,” the enemies must be silenced, canceled, threatened, or worse. The question is no longer, “How will we come together in America?” but rather, “Are we witnessing the beginning of the end of America as we know it?” The ground beneath us now belongs to competing ideological factions, each unwilling to coexist or abide by others’ rules. After the Holocaust, one of the most asked questions was, “Where was God?” As I observe our current path, I think I know the answer. God was there, as God is here now, imploring us to resist the forces stripping others of their humanity. We are called to stop the descent into name-calling, caricaturing, and stereotyping. We must stand against the rhetoric that deems others morally inferior or subhuman and oppose any act of violence against our fellow humans. While it’s easy to blame leaders and social media for our current trajectory, the truth is we have created this reality. Yet, we also have the power to change it. We need reasonable people to rise up and come together, to reject the hatred and division, and to build a new community that values humility, peaceableness, and mercy for all. Only on this path can our shared humanity survive and flourish. Question In what ways am I contributing, or challenging, the dehumanization of other in my own community through my words or actions? Peace, Brandon For more posts like this, visit brandonandress.com

I want to talk about giving thanks. Not as an event or a specific moment in time. But as a constant outflow in our lives. I can already hear the cynics and naysayers shaming my idealism. We live in a time when old hatreds have come back to life and old divisions have widened. We are told that this is our only reality and we must pick sides and prepare for battle. There is an ever-growing chorus among younger generations who believe that love has failed, peace is for the weak, and giving thanks is only for those who live in privilege. I reject those notions. No matter how dark or cynical our world has become, how jaded the news is that we consume, or how many times we are fed the narrative that our only reality can only be anger, hatred, and division, we can embody another way. There is an ever-present reality into which we can enter where thanksgiving becomes the very essence of our being, and the perpetual outflow of our spirit. Thanksgiving is so much more than an event, so much more than a sporadic, momentary act, so much more than an expression of gratitude only when something goes in our favor or when the conditions are right. Thanksgiving is an ever-flowing expression of gratitude in everything, in every moment of the day, with every breath that is taken, and never dependent upon our changing situation or circumstance. Thanksgiving is our perpetual expression of gratitude for all people, all relationships, and all things. Thanksgiving is our perpetual expression of gratitude regardless of our life situation or our changing condition. Thanksgiving is saying, “This life is good. And I want to invite everyone to a seat at this table.” Thanksgiving responds in the midst of chaos, “Thank you God for your grace, mercy, love, and beauty. Let me be an extension of you everywhere I am and with every breath I take.” Question How can you make thanksgiving a way of living, rather than a holiday or event? Peace, Brandon This post is from my new book Deep Calls to Deep: Meditations for Your Spiritual Journey, Vol. 1. It is now available for preorder everywhere online. Have an incredible day of gratitude and thanksgiving.

Growing up, I never imagined being a writer or writing books. But from a young age, I loved words and stories. My mom would buy me books, and I would devour them. I was especially obsessed with a custom-ordered version of The Jungle Book in which I was included as a character. It featured a blond-haired little boy named Brandon marching through the forests of India alongside Mowgli and his friends. My imagination would run wild with these stories. My sister and I spent countless hours pulling books from the shelves, demanding that our mom or dad read to us. We were so relentless that my mom eventually resorted to locking herself in the bedroom to record stories on cassette. Even then, I don’t recall it satisfying us—we wanted to sit on their laps and hear them read aloud. My love of words followed me through school. I won spelling bees, wrote wild and fanciful stories, took an etymology class in high school, and competed on the Spell Bowl team. Every step of the way, teachers encouraged me, seeing my passion for words and self-expression. Mrs. Auxier, for example, would write a phrase like “Happy Thanksgiving” on the chalkboard, challenging us to create as many words as possible from the phrase. The winner got a miniature Smurf figurine. I won every time and still have those Smurfs tucked away somewhere to prove it. No mom, I don’t want them back. In high school, an eccentric, honors-level English and History teacher who went by the nickname “KA” had me visit his classroom every morning before school. Before helping him grade homework, he’d hand me the word jumbles from the newspaper and time me to see how fast I could solve them. Then there was Dr. Kathy Barbour, my English composition professor at Hanover College. I wrote about her in a previous post, but she deserves mention here. She encouraged me to see myself as a writer at a time when I viewed my writing as nothing more than homework—a means to earn a grade and fulfill a credit. She recognized my love of words and creativity and pushed me to keep writing. Even as I’ve grown older, others have continued to support me as a writer. Brian Blair, formerly of The Republic newspaper in Columbus, Indiana, gave me one of my greatest opportunities: a fourteen-year run as a Faith and Community guest columnist. I remain profoundly grateful for that experience. And Beth Stroh at Viewpoint Books has been one of my fiercest advocates. She has created opportunities for me, championed my work, and sold every book I’ve written. Her promotion and support have been gifts I could never fully repay. So many people have shaped me as a writer. I wouldn’t be who I am today without their love, guidance, and encouragement. The same can be said for any of us, though. Becoming who we are is a testament to staying open to the people and paths placed before us. It’s easy to live under the illusion that we must pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and chart our own course. But that’s never the full story. Behind each of us is a community of people who mold us, shape us, and open doors we couldn’t open on our own. To those people in my life who have shaped me as a writer, I am eternally grateful. Question Who are the people in your life who have shaped and encouraged you to become who you are today, and how might you express your gratitude to them? Peace, Brandon For more posts like this visit brandonandress.com

Jenny told me on March 4th (25 days ago) that she was over a week late on her period. Let me tell you. When you are an almost 48-year-old man who had a vasectomy over a decade ago and who has three kids (22, 19, and 10), the last thing you want to hear are those words. Like a gray-bearded soldier, hoping he had already fought in his last war, I marched into Fort Walgreens and stealthily purchased a box with two tests. Walking out to my car, I began laughing out loud at the hilarity of my divine comedy. With the bathroom door secure from a potentially wandering 10-year-old, we waited for two minutes that were twenty years. The 99.9% accurate digital test flashed. Pregnant. You have likely heard the phrase build your house upon the rock rather than the sand. The point is that a house built upon the rock is better able to withstand strong winds and heavy storms than one built upon a foundation that easily washes away. I imagine this firm foundation that centers a person and gives solid grounding has to be peace and love. Despite what storms may blow our way, it is the foundation of peace and love that firmly grounds us, enabling us to stand firm. That is why the previous writings have been so insistent upon each of us cultivating a healthy and vibrant inner self. When our center is peace and love, we have the resiliency to handle the most unpredictable life situations. I am glad I have been working on my inner self over the last few months because this was a life situation I never expected. After hugging and nervously laughing, I told Jenny that I am going to pour every ounce of love and wisdom into that kid. It is not the path I imagined us taking at this point in our lives, but I received it with a peaceful soul. I suppose that is what we are all working toward, together. Interestingly enough, after three subsequent pregnancy tests and a fourth from the doctor, it turns out that Jenny is not pregnant. The first test was a false positive. I could have told you that earlier, but I wanted you to have the same experience that we had over that two day period. Peace, Brandon For more posts like this one, visit brandonandress.com