Fantastic, amazing, soulful, breathtaking, masterful, evocative — and the list could go on forever. That is how I would describe Michael Jackson. I was never simply a fan. To me, he was far more than an entertainer, artist, or superstar. Just as Michael Jackson was never an ordinary performer, my connection to him was never ordinary admiration.

From the age of six, watching The Jackson 5 cartoons and listening to their music, I felt drawn to him in a way I could never fully explain. By the time I reached puberty, I had already decided I was going to marry Michael Jackson. Childish as that may sound now, it reflected how deeply connected I felt to him even then.

Watching this movie “Michael” recently brought all of those emotions rushing back. I cried because I realized just how much I still miss him and how much I truly loved this man. From childhood, I always felt as though his heart and soul somehow resonated with my own. I felt spiritually connected to him. I never saw him merely as a celebrity or global icon. Through his music, lyrics, and humanitarian spirit, I saw someone who was genuinely a gift from God to the world.

His music felt prophetic, inspirational, and healing. In times of struggle, confusion, and pain — much like the state of today’s world — his songs carried messages of love, unity, compassion, and hope. They reached people across every race, culture, and nation.

In the Bible, 1 Samuel 16:14–23 tells us that when an evil spirit troubled King Saul, David would play the harp and soothe him, bringing him peace. In many ways, Michael Jackson’s music did something similar for millions of people. Today, the world feels overwhelmed by anger, division, hatred, and spiritual darkness, and sometimes I feel as though we need Michael Jackson’s music now more than ever to remind us what compassion, humanity, and healing sound like.

His music soothed my spirit many times throughout my life. At times, listening to his songs felt almost like prayer. To this day, I believe there is no other artist whose music has touched the entire world on such a deep emotional and spiritual level regardless of race, ethnicity, language, or culture.

When I see public figures comparing themselves to Jesus Christ or portraying themselves as spiritual saviors, I cannot help but reflect on Michael Jackson differently. No, I do not believe Michael was Jesus, nor would I ever place him above Christ. But I do believe there are parallels in the suffering he endured.

All my life, I watched Michael Jackson pour love into humanity and strive to make the world a better place. I also watched as the world tried to break him. Like Jesus, he faced relentless public humiliation, false accusations, ridicule, mockery, and betrayal. They called him “Wacko Jacko.” They accused him of terrible things. They attempted to destroy not only his reputation, but his spirit.

Yet time after time, he endured.

I believe he was covered by the prayers of his mother, his family, and millions of people around the world who genuinely loved him. Still, the attacks never truly stopped. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps God called him home because humanity would have continued trying to crucify him emotionally and spiritually over and over again.

Michael Jackson had one of the most compassionate hearts the world has ever seen. His pain was visible behind the smile, behind the performances, behind the fame. I often think that carrying the emotional weight of humanity eventually became too much for him.

I remember the excitement surrounding the This Is It tour announcement. I rushed home, changed clothes, and sat in front of the television binge-watching Michael Jackson videos for hours. I was so energized and emotional that I could not sleep. I even got my husband caught up watching the videos with me before he eventually fell asleep while I kept watching.

Then I remembered the day Michael died.

I cried inconsolably while watching the news coverage. Every channel was covering his death. His music played everywhere. The entire world seemed to stop for a moment. During my dramatic breakdown, my daughter told my husband to comfort me. He looked over and jokingly replied, “Why should I? She’s crying over another man.”

Even through my tears, I had to laugh. In that moment, I realized just how much my husband had endured throughout the years because of my lifelong love for Michael Jackson. I used to joke with him that Michael was the only man I would ever leave him for.

Now, after midnight, I find myself awake reflecting on the question that still lingers years later: Why him? Why did God take him?

What settled in my spirit was this: perhaps he had completed what he came into this world to do.

Just as Jesus said on the cross, “It is finished,” perhaps Michael Jackson’s purpose here had also reached its completion. I truly believe that even in death, his spirit, message, and music continue to illuminate hearts and remind humanity of the goodness we once had but too often took for granted.

In a world increasingly filled with cruelty, division, selfishness, and despair, Michael Jackson’s voice still reminds people to heal the world, care for children, protect the planet, and love one another. His influence did not end with his death. In many ways, it only became immortal.

Sometimes it feels as though nothing truly good is meant to last forever in this world. The pure-hearted often seem to suffer the most, and sometimes the brightest lights leave us too soon. Jesus was only thirty-three years old when He died.

I still miss Michael Jackson deeply, and I can only imagine the pain his family continues to carry. My prayer is that the Lord continues to bless and strengthen them with peace, love, healing, and unity.

Michael Jackson may be gone from this earth, but for millions around the world, his music, spirit, and message will never die.

From the earliest laws given in Scripture to the teachings of Jesus, there appears to be a tension between justice and mercy. In Exodus 21:24–25, we read, “eye for eye, tooth for tooth.” Yet in the New Testament, Jesus raises the standard in Matthew 5:38–42, saying, “Do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” He goes even further in Matthew 5:44–48, calling us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.

At first glance, these teachings seem contradictory. However, the command in Exodus was not a license for personal revenge, but a limitation—designed to prevent excessive retaliation and establish measured justice. Jesus, on the other hand, calls His followers beyond legal justice into personal transformation. He challenges us not merely to act justly, but to live mercifully.

This standard is difficult—perhaps even more so in today’s world. Many would argue that such expectations ask too much. Society has shifted; reverence for God has diminished, and obedience is often replaced with emotion, personal ambition, and self-interest. We are quick to react, slow to forgive, and often driven more by how we feel than by what we know to be right.

Yet Jesus presents a different way.

To “turn the other cheek” is not weakness—it is strength under control. It requires humility, restraint, and a deep trust in God. As written in Romans 12:19, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord.” True faith rests in this assurance, even when injustice goes unanswered in the moment.

Jesus Himself modeled this perfectly. Though He had the power to defend Himself, He chose silence, humility, and obedience, even as He was beaten and led to the cross. His response was not retaliation, but forgiveness: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

This raises an important question for us today:
Do we truly not know what we are doing—or are we choosing disobedience despite knowing the truth?

Unlike earlier generations, we live in an age overflowing with knowledge. Through technology, social media, and access to information, we are more informed than ever before. Yet knowledge has not translated into righteousness. Like the Israelites in the wilderness, we often witness God’s provision and still complain, doubt, and turn back.

After being delivered from slavery, the Israelites longed for Egypt when faced with hardship (Exodus 14:11–12). They murmured over bitter water (Exodus 15:23–24), complained about food (Exodus 16:2–3), questioned God’s presence (Exodus 17:1–7), and repeatedly rebelled despite His faithfulness (Numbers 11; 14). Their struggle was not ignorance—it was a lack of trust and obedience.

This same pattern exists today.

We wrestle with faith in a world filled with distractions. Technology, ambition, and the pursuit of wealth and recognition often take precedence over spiritual discipline. The question “Where is God?” echoes in times of chaos and suffering. It can feel as though evil is unchecked and the world is unraveling.

But Scripture reminds us that God’s delay is not absence—it is patience. He allows time for repentance, even as humanity exercises free will in ways that lead to disorder and pain.

Still, the tension remains. The world teaches that strength is found in retaliation, dominance, and power. Jesus teaches that strength is found in humility, forgiveness, and love—even toward enemies.

These are not just moral ideals; they are spiritual demands that reveal the condition of the human heart.

Forgiveness, as Jesus taught in Matthew 18:21–22, is not limited. “Seventy-seven times seven” is not meant to be counted, but lived. This kind of forgiveness cannot come from human effort alone—it requires transformation. The flesh seeks revenge; the spirit calls for grace.

At the same time, humanity continues to chase power, often looking to leaders as saviors—individuals who are themselves flawed, imperfect, and susceptible to corruption. History shows that power and wealth, without humility and accountability, often lead to deeper injustice rather than lasting peace.

True change does not begin with global control or human dominance. It begins within the individual—through surrender, obedience, and alignment with God’s will.

We are not without responsibility. Those who profess faith in Christ are called to reflect Him not only in words, but in action. To speak with truth, walk in humility, show compassion, and extend forgiveness. Our lives are meant to mirror His character.

The world may be filled with turmoil, but the call remains clear:
to choose mercy over vengeance, humility over pride, and obedience over self-will.

Humanity’s greatest struggle is not a lack of knowledge—it is resistance to obedience.

And yet, despite this struggle, there is hope.

If we are willing to release our grip on power, let go of the need for retaliation, and trust in the justice of God, we have the opportunity to reshape not only our own lives, but the world around us. Not through force or control, but through a quiet, transformative strength rooted in faith and love.

In the end, the question is not whether we understand what is right.

The question is whether we are willing to live it.

If someone slaps you on the cheek, are you going to fight back for truth, or your ego? This what Jesus is talking about, when he says turn the other cheek. Turning the other cheek to me is a form of fighting for truth not ego. Truth is never about self, but standing in love.