Hi there - I'm Glenn

(Insert awkward pause here.)

I never quite know how to start these things. Writing about yourself always feels a little weird — like narrating your own behind-the-scenes special without knowing who’s watching.

But if you’re here, maybe you’re curious about the guy behind the mic, the camera, or the ministry name I Am Abiding. So here goes — some snapshots of my story, not polished or perfect, but honest and (hopefully) a little helpful.

When I was younger, I thought I might end up in ministry someday.
But over time, all my shortcomings, failures, and quiet disappointments convinced me otherwise. I figured ministry was for people who had it all together — the polished ones with perfect testimonies, steady hands, and no real baggage.

I didn’t feel like one of them. I felt like the guy God might love from a distance, but surely couldn’t use up close.

But Jesus doesn’t work off résumés and highlight reels. He comes for us in the hidden places — and He’s far more patient than I ever imagined.

One of the first times I knew He was truly calling me was in Glorieta, New Mexico, at a youth conference not long after my family returned from living in the Philippines. Something happened that night I still can’t fully explain — but I knew. Jesus wasn’t just inviting me to believe in Him. He was offering to live through me.

After the service, I found a quiet corner in the balcony and wept for over an hour. Not out of fear or guilt — but from the overwhelming kindness of God. It was the kind of moment that leaves a permanent mark.

I wish I could say I charged ahead from there. But life didn’t get easier. I made painful mistakes. I wandered. I wrestled with regret and shame. I assumed I’d blown my one shot at anything meaningful. There were months when I tried to say and do all the right things, just hoping God might still be listening.

But God kept coming.

In whispers.
In wilderness seasons.
In the lonely caves.

In the ache of friendships that couldn’t bear my brokenness and they walked away.

On quiet moments on mountain trails — not with lightning bolts, but with clarity, peace, and the kind of grace that doesn’t give up.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to prove I was worthy of ministry… and began to realize I had a place — right there at the feet of Jesus — where I could simply receive every word and gesture of His love.

In scripture, there’s only one place we see God running — in the story of the Faithful Father and his lost son.

While the son was still far off, the Father ran to him… embraced him… clothed him in a robe, put shoes on his feet, and placed a ring on his hand.

I’ve known what it is to feel that embrace.
I know what it is to be restored when you thought it was over.
And I know this much: the Father’s still running toward you.

No matter where you are today — whether your feet are moving away from the Father or slowly turning back toward Him — He’s not standing with crossed arms.

He’s ready, eager, and already reaching to bring you into deep, intimate fellowship with Him.

This is why I’m here.

Welcome home.