Humble yourself.
You don’t have the power to turn even one hair on your head white or black.
Your own body can kill you at any moment.
Yet you walk around as if the stars are calling for you, and the mountains part before you.
You act as though nature is at your disposal, and that trees don’t deserve your praise.
As if you fuel the world, and not the other way around.
As if your words matter more than those next to you, or those who oppose you.
It is truly magnificent just how insignificant you are.
Millions have passed before you, just as millions will live after you.
In 100 years we will all be dead, and our pride and our ego will have accomplished absolutely nothing.
Smile more often
And love.
People joke that hell will be ‘lit’ because all the famous people will be there. It is one of the most theologically illiterate things a human being can say, and almost nobody stops to explain why.
The joke assumes enjoyment exists independently of God. That pleasure is something humans discovered and God merely watches from a distance. That we are having fun he is not privy to. But that is completely backwards. God did not observe sex and decide to permit it. He invented it.
He did not stumble upon music. He is the source from which music flows. No human musician in their current state walks into heaven’s choir without being exposed. The least of them will put our greatest to shame. Every good thing we have ever experienced is derivative. A trickle from a reservoir we have never seen.
This is why the incarnation is such a devastating argument. God puts on flesh. He enters the world with full access to everything we spend our lives chasing. Wealth. Fame. Sex. Power. And he is conspicuously unimpressed.
Not because he came to perform suffering, he went to weddings, he ate, he wept, he loved people fiercely. But none of it could compete with what he already knew was real. A man who has eaten the actual meal is not tormented by the photograph of it.
Then he meets a rich man, a man who had maximized human enjoyment by every available metric, and he says: sell everything and come. Nobody says that unless they know exactly what is on the other side. That is not the language of sacrifice. That is the language of an outrageously favorable trade.
As for hell, the joke gets it completely wrong. Hell is not a party for rebels. Hell is what happens when a being built to find its fullness in God is permanently severed from the source of every good thing they ever enjoyed.
The music does not continue without him. The laughter does not continue without him. The connection does not continue without him. Because all of those were on loan from the one they are now cut off from. It is not pleasure without God. It is the final and total collapse of everything that ever made pleasure possible.
You are not enjoying something God is missing out on. You are enjoying God already, dimly, through everything he made. Heaven is not a different category of experience. It is the same thing with the glass finally removed.
We live on a planet where trees communicate, octopuses dream, elephants honor their dead, bees dance to find their way, crows remember, ants build, cats heal with their purring, and the forest, after the fire, blooms again.
God gave the fish an ocean and the lion a desert and the eagle empty sky, and each one kills in its own kingdom. but man is the only creature stupid enough to look at his brothers gift and try to steal it instead of unwrapping his own. i spent years in the wrong fight, wondering why God forsaken me. he didnt. i was just too proud to go where he sent me. i wanted someone elses field, someone elses crown, and i got destroyed for it. a strong fish on a mountain is a dead fish. thats a failure of obedience
Everything around me is rotting, so i build. that is it, that is the whole reason. God built six days and rested one. he could have stopped at function, he could have given us eyes that only see useful things, but he made color. he made sunsets. he made the shape of a woman's back. he made the sound of rain hitting a dirt road at night. beauty was not an afterthought, it was the first thought, everything else came after. i build because the world is falling apart, and a man who does not build is just watching a fire. i lay bricks straight, i put flowers where nobody will see them, i sand wood until the grain is smooth enough to hold without a glove. these are prayers. and the man who says beauty does not matter has never built anything, he has only consumed, and consumption leaves you hollow. everyone i know who only takes has the same eyes, empty, always hungry, looking for the next thing to swallow. hold a hammer instead. hold wood. hold stone. make something that does not need you to survive, and then walk away from it, and feel what that is. that is the closest i have ever got to being alive, and i am not giving it back.
A woman doesn't want stable she wants a man who wrestled angels and chose not to tell anyone because the men who advertise their war never fought one, the man she actually wants has teeth marks from God on his ribs. she can feel it in how he holds silence like it owes him something, stable men practice vulnerability in mirrors, this man doesn't even know the word for what he survived he just woke up one day and the thing that was killing him became the thing that made him holy and he kept walking like nothing happened because to him nothing did
Goliath trained his whole life for war and david trained his whole life for God and that's why goliath lost, you can't kill a man who isn't fighting you he's fighting for something behind you that you can't even see, goliath saw a boy david saw a mission goliath calculated odds david didn't do math, the sword is heavy because it carries the ego of the man holding it the stone is light because the boy already let go of himself before he threw it, every empire falls to something it didn't take seriously, every giant dies confused
you wake up and reach for your phone before your eyes focus. scroll through a hundred thoughts that aren’t yours until your own voice sounds like someone you used to know and by noon you’ve consumed more information than your grandparents did in a year but can’t name a single thing that actually moved you. the feed keeps serving up other people’s lives and you keep swallowing them whole, mistaking the fullness for satisfaction when really you’re just bloated on nothing. you’ve become a processing unit instead of a person and the loneliest part is how normal it feels.
I want a love that parts seas and make mountains look like pebbles. A love that has been marinated in holy water and kissed by angels. I want a love so powerful it restores Gods faith in humanity. I will never settle.
He who loves gold dies counting and the counting never ends because there is always more to count and the more is the punishment disguised as reward. God gave him exactly what he asked for and it ate him alive
the rich man opened his hands to receive and his hands never closed again and he called this ambition but it was a curse delivered through answered prayer. you wanted it. here it is. now you cannot stop wanting
Solomon had everything and wrote vanity vanity and nobody listened because they thought he was being humble but he was screaming. he was warning. the man who gets what he wants finds out what he wants was the trap and the trap has no door from the inside
gold does not satisfy gold teaches you to be hungry in a way bread never could. the poor man sleeps. the rich man watches the numbers and the numbers watch him back and neither of them blinks
the deepest hell is getting everything and finally understanding you were already full before you started and you spent your whole life forgetting this and now you remember and it is too late and the remembering is the fire that does not go out
Delete the mirror. the reflection is three versions behind. you are not who you were when you started this sentence. eat once. think twice. speak never. the mouth is a debt machine. every word costs something and you are in deficit. learn dead languages so you can hear the living ones lying. your grandfather knew something and took it to the grave on purpose. dig. actually dig. the body remembers what the mind sold for comfort. stop sleeping eight hours. empires were built on four. the tired mind sees through walls. find the book they burned and read it wrong on purpose. the wrong reading is the right one now. your friends are mirrors you chose because the angle was flattering. break the mirrors. stand in the dark. the dark has information the light censored. stop being understood. understanding is a leash. the saints were incoherent. the prophets stuttered. clarity is for salesmen. collect enemies. enemies are the only honest feedback. your allies lie to keep you close. learn to sit in a room with nothing until the nothing speaks first. it will. it always does. the soft ones are building bunkers now. too late. the bunker is internal. always was
Damn sex must be the dullest and most pedestrian reason for cheating. Sex? You cheated for some sex? That's it? You weren't looking for a great companion? You weren't looking to be spiritually and mentally nurtured? You weren't looking to be listened to? You just wanted sex? 🙄