Some dreams don’t end when a life ends.
Some dreams are seeds — planted deep, meant to grow after the one who planted them has gone.
My father was a medical missionary. He didn’t chase recognition.
He gave everything he had — his time, his energy, his very last — for strangers he never met because God asked him to. He was truly a selfless man and always believed that God would provide what is needed.
And so now, it’s my turn.
Through LM Publishing House, and soon through the Ernest Edgar Zeeman Foundation, I will continue the work he started.
I made him a promise.
Daddy, the world will know your name. Not because we chased platforms, but because we said yes when God asked us to go.
Because we kept building when the world wasn’t looking.
This isn’t a career. It’s an inheritance.
It’s a promise kept.
