Hey Guys,

I know I haven’t been super active lately, so here’s a quick update.

I’ve been grinding behind the scenes — tuning up my website and building out the Strum Life store. That’s why I’ve been quiet on social media these past couple weeks.

But that’s about to change. Working on turning music into a business has me thinking hard about where I stand as a musician. This brand I’m building isn’t some made-up hustle — it’s the result of years of living. Some good years. Some brutal ones. And through it, I’m learning a lot about myself, what my comfort zone really is, and how much I’ve had to grow.

As some of you know, I’m a born-again Christian now. I’ve been thinking about how that shows up in my life. I don’t want to preach. If anyone follows Christ because of me, I want it to be through my actions, not my words. But I’ll be real — the old Mike still pops up, and I get in my own way sometimes. That’s a fight I’m always in.

This isn’t me trying to be some fake entrepreneur. This is me sharing my world, my music, and my journey. My biggest enemy has always been myself, and the only way I can get free is by leaning on something greater than me — something I’ll never fully understand.

I’m excited about the merch ideas. Coffee mugs are just the start. The exposure isn’t even in the infant stage yet — right now it’s like the sperm just hit the egg. For those of you riding with me through this experiment called the human condition — thank you.

Appreciate everyone who sticks around through the quiet patches. More is coming soon.

— Mike

I used to call myself liberal. I thought I was on the side of compassion, the side of helping people. But when the propaganda storm hit after Trump got elected, it didn’t feel like compassion anymore. It felt like blame. Suddenly, being a white man meant I was automatically part of the problem. That week, I almost got into fights just for existing in my own skin.

That shook me. Not because I stopped caring about justice — but because I saw how quick people were to turn their neighbor into an enemy. The left had their story, the right had theirs, and both were selling fear. I didn’t want any part of that game.

So I walked away from labels. I don’t call myself liberal anymore. I don’t call myself conservative either. What I call myself is antiracist. Not in the “buzzword” way the media throws around. I mean antiracist in the way of Christ.

Because Jesus was an antiracist.

He broke every line people drew. Jews weren’t supposed to talk to Samaritans, but He sat at a well and told a Samaritan woman her life mattered. The Romans were the enemy occupiers, but He healed a centurion’s servant and praised the man’s faith. Women were pushed to the sidelines, but He pulled them into His ministry and defended them publicly. Lepers were considered untouchable, but He touched them first.

That’s what real antiracism looks like — not dividing people into categories of guilt or innocence, but seeing the human soul beyond skin, tribe, class, or status.

I’m tired of sides. I’m tired of the outrage machine. I don’t buy left or right anymore. I buy Jesus. And Jesus doesn’t play favorites.

If you want to follow Him, you have to break down the walls the world keeps putting up. You have to see people for who they are — messy, broken, loved, and worth saving.

That’s what Strum Life is about.
Not propaganda. Not sides.
Just truth. Just music. Just grace.

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

— Hebrews 12:11 (NIV)

I have to relearn a lot of things.

I’ve taken my anger out on the wrong people and mistaken foolish behavior as how the world works.

I’ve seen generosity used as manipulation.

I’ve seen good deeds with strings attached.

I have to re-learn how to be an adult and how I think of others.

I didn’t know compassion could replace anger.

I’m having a hard time processing that you can feel sadness for those who harm you — not because you’re weak, but because God is trying to teach them something through your endurance. That’s heavy.

I’m getting used to the fact that you don’t have to prove yourself to people who believe lies about you.

You don’t have to explain your heart to someone who’s already made up their mind.

When your life is full of deception and the Lord comes in to turn darkness into His righteousness — it hurts.

A part of you is dying.

Not the part that people admired — but the part that kept you numb.

That brought you comfort and familiarity.

But that part’s got to go if God is going to take over.

And He will take over — if you let Him.

If your mind isn’t calm when thinking about something, it’s hard for God to work with you.

When you have to over-explain or over-extend yourself to be accepted, something is seriously wrong.

You’re not being your authentic self.

When God works through you, very few words are needed.

Technically, I am poor. I have next to nothing. But I don’t feel poor. I feel wealthy. I feel like I have more than I’ve ever had in my entire life. Even when I had money, I never felt this fulfilled.

I know why.

Ever since I fully gave myself to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, things have only gotten better. I’ve always believed in God—even in the times I didn’t want to believe. Even when people told me it was bullshit or just my imagination, God made His presence clear in my life. I always felt something. There was always something weird happening.

One of those things: I was always told, when you’re having a hard time, go make someone else’s day a little bit better.

One day, I was in the store waiting in line. I saw a magazine on the ground. I thought, I’m gonna make someone’s job a little bit easier today. It was just a small gesture—just putting the magazine back on the shelf. But when I picked it up, a one-dollar bill fell out.

Just like that. A tiny reminder.

The Gear Lights That Came to Life

I once had a car where the gear lights didn’t work. They went out almost immediately after we bought it. For years, they stayed dark.

One night, I was talking to some people and God came up. It was a heavy conversation. I felt the Holy Spirit. I can’t fully explain it—it was just one of those moments where you know.

When I got back in my car that night and turned it on, the gear lights lit up for the first time in years. They worked—just like that. After a short time, they stopped working again.

You can call me crazy if you want. But I know what I saw. And I know what I felt.

A Window in West Oakland

Last year, I hit one of the darkest moments of my life. I was drunk, alone in my room in West Oakland. The window was dimmed and the curtains were closed tight. It was a cloudy, overcast day—barely any light in the room.

I sat there, feeling lower and lower, until I finally broke.

I begged God to help me.

Please, God. I’m tired of being like this. I’ll do anything. I’ll be your servant. I just need your help. Please. I’m done living this way.

Within minutes, the clouds broke.

The sunlight came in so bright it blasted through the curtains I had tried so hard to keep the sun out of. My room filled with light, and I felt a peace I rarely feel.

I picked up my guitar and started singing praise. I thanked God through that song. I recorded it on my phone.

The next day, I went to work. It was overcast again. When I got off work, I looked up at the sky and said, God, thank you for what you’ve done for me.

Right when I said that, the clouds separated again and sunlight hit me.

I wanted to hear that song I made the day before. I looked for the recording on my phone. It was gone. I had played that song at least three or four times the day before. I know it was there. But I couldn’t find it.

Was that a sign? I don’t know. All I know is what I saw. All I know is what I felt.

Faith, Doubt, and Critical Thinking

I know there are therapists and skeptics who would hear this and say, That’s just this bias or that bias. And that’s fine. Honestly, I like hearing that kind of stuff. It makes me think. It challenges me. It even makes me wonder if God exists sometimes. I think that’s healthy.

I think God wants us to think. He doesn’t want us to blindly nod along. That’s why He gave us brains. He wants us to wrestle with this stuff.

Of all the atheists I’ve met, I know one who actually has a convincing theory that maybe God isn’t real. But even if he’s right for a million years, I would still have faith in Jesus Christ.

Because after what I’ve seen in my life, after what I’ve felt, after fully giving myself to Jesus—
There’s no other way.