To the Keepers of the Cross, the Carriers of the Gospel,

I greet you with love—deep, abiding, Christ-like love. I write this letter not as a formality, but as a heartfelt recognition of your endurance, your obedience, and your unwavering commitment to the restoration of God’s kingdom on Earth.

From the early persecuted church to the modern-day believers who gather in cathedrals, tents, living rooms, and underground fellowships—you have carried the weight of the cross with dignity. Through trials, injustice, division, and war, you have sought to uphold the message of grace, mercy, and eternal life through Jesus the Christ.

You, who pray in tongues, sing hymns with broken voices, and lay hands on the sick in hope—you have not forgotten Him. The doctrine of salvation, the commission to make disciples, and the two greatest commandments—love God and love your neighbor—are not just teachings to you, but life-blood.

In your communities, traditions like Communion remind us of sacrifice. The act of baptism declares rebirth. Your praise and worship, filled with joy or tears, calls heaven into the atmosphere. Your missions, your revivals, your fasts, your church mothers and elders, your altar calls, and your quiet morning devotions—they all contribute to the reestablishment of God’s reign.

I see you. From Catholic priests offering Mass to Pentecostal youth on fire for Christ; from contemplative monks to social justice warriors walking in the footsteps of Christ—I see the thread of sacred resistance that ties your stories together.

This world, hungry for light, often mocks or misunderstands your calling. But you remain faithful. For that, I thank you. Keep pressing. Keep healing. Keep proclaiming. The restoration of God's presence on Earth is not just your hope—it’s the very air you breathe.
May the Holy Spirit continue to fall fresh upon you. May your churches become hospitals for the wounded, lighthouses for the lost, and wombs for new beginnings.

In the name of divine love and radical faith,
I honor you.