Let me introduce you to a brave hero from my country, Iran.
She was 16 years old. Just a girl. And on the streets of Iran, she did something braver than most people do in a lifetime: she took off her hijab and burned it in public. Right in front of the regime. Right in front of the world.
That was her crime: civil disobedience. A teenage girl refusing to obey men who claimed authority over her hair, her body, her life.
Her message spoke for millions of Iranian women:
To every man who rules over women in the name of religion, honor, or culture: We do not obey you. Your laws were never made for us.
This is what real power looks like: unarmed, unafraid, unbowed.
For that defiance, she was arrested. Her family says she was tortured and killed after falling into the hands of security forces. The Iranian authorities denied responsibility and gave a different account of her death.
Her name was Nika Shakarami. She was 16.
Now ask yourself: How many women in the West know her name? How many know what she risked for a freedom they have never had to fight for?
Say her name: Nika Shakarami.
LEAH NAMED HER CHILDREN AFTER HER HUNGER TO BE LOVED
Leah named her first son Reuben, because God had "seen" her affliction.
She hoped Jacob would finally love her. She named the second Simeon, because God had "heard" that she was unloved. She named the third Levi, hoping her husband would finally become attached to her.
Three pregnancies.
Three sons.
Three attempts to turn childbirth into evidence that she was worth choosing.
Then she gave birth to Judah and said, "This time I will praise the Lord."
For one sacred moment, Leah removed Jacob from the meaning of her motherhood.
She did not mention whether he would love her, or become attached to her.
She simply praised God.
And from Judah came the line of Christ. Think about that.
The Messiah would come through the son an unloved woman named in a moment of praise.
For once, she stopped asking a man to interpret her worth and turned her exhausted heart toward God.
Jesus came through Judah.
Perhaps praise was born in the brief and holy moment Leah removed Jacob from the center of her naming.
I had a conversation with someone over the weekend that was yet another black pill.
It was a spontaneous conversation about Lindsay Clancy and I asked them a simple question:
"If this case was about a man instead of a woman, would you still think they are innocent?"
To their credit, they honestly said no.
If you don't think our entire culture is rigged to hate men, you're extremely naive.
The loudest worshiper in our church was also the one everyone wished would stay quiet.
She said things like “Amen!” and “Thank you Jesus!!”
No one else in the room spoke that freely....ever.
She was new and different and joyful.
One Sunday I saw the woman in front of her turn around and stare.
Not a curious look either...
A hard one. She spun around every time that woman opened her mouth.
It beat me to the punch.
My first thought was not celebration.
It was embarrassment.
I worried visitors might think we were strange.
The pastor met with her at the request of the deacons.
She kept right on praising every week after that.
One morning she shouted “Thank you Jesus” during a point that cut right to her heart.
Half the room tightened up.
I noticed many shift in the pew as if praise had no place in a Baptist sanctuary.
The room grew quiet. She stayed loud.
That was when it hit me.
She was not interrupting the service.
She was interrupting our tradition.
And the real problem was not her voice.
It was my fear.
I had been more worried about our comfort than her worship.
I worried about appearances more than Scripture.
More worried about preserving the style of the room than letting joy break into it.
Maybe God did not send her just to test the church.
Maybe he sent her to wake me up.
Because every church takes notes.
Not on the sermon outline.
On the hearts of the people in the pew.
I learned that day that quiet can be a tradition.
And sometimes God puts one loud saint in the room to remind you what praise is supposed to sound like.
Let your church be the place where joy is welcomed instead of managed.
The loudest worshiper in our church was also the one everyone wished would stay quiet.
She said things like “Amen!” and “Thank you Jesus!!”
No one else in the room spoke that freely....ever.
She was new and different and joyful.
One Sunday I saw the woman in front of her turn around and stare.
Not a curious look either...
A hard one. She spun around every time that woman opened her mouth.
It beat me to the punch.
My first thought was not celebration.
It was embarrassment.
I worried visitors might think we were strange.
The pastor met with her at the request of the deacons.
She kept right on praising every week after that.
One morning she shouted “Thank you Jesus” during a point that cut right to her heart.
Half the room tightened up.
I noticed many shift in the pew as if praise had no place in a Baptist sanctuary.
The room grew quiet. She stayed loud.
That was when it hit me.
She was not interrupting the service.
She was interrupting our tradition.
And the real problem was not her voice.
It was my fear.
I had been more worried about our comfort than her worship.
I worried about appearances more than Scripture.
More worried about preserving the style of the room than letting joy break into it.
Maybe God did not send her just to test the church.
Maybe he sent her to wake me up.
Because every church takes notes.
Not on the sermon outline.
On the hearts of the people in the pew.
I learned that day that quiet can be a tradition.
And sometimes God puts one loud saint in the room to remind you what praise is supposed to sound like.
Let your church be the place where joy is welcomed instead of managed.
Here's a question for Lindsay’s defenders.
Would you show Lindsay the same mercy if she had killed your children? Would you feel the same deep empathy for her mental struggles? Would you opt for keeping her out of prison because, well, she was having a hard time mentally and had taken a lot of pills on-and-off?
Probably - hopefully - not.
I'm afraid too many women, left and right, think justice is dictated by how deeply we can relate to the people involved.
Because some of you can see yourselves in Lindsay's depression or anxiety, and can't relate to her children, you feel compelled to defend her. Before sending me a defensive reply, please stop and really consider that
This is why empathy-based justice isn't justice at all. It's partiality, which God calls evil
ARE YOU WONDERING WHAT PRESIDENT TRUMP IS REALLY DOING?
Let me tell you what I see.
I hear people asking why President Trump is fighting with Canada, dealing with Venezuela, using tariffs and talking so much about energy. Those are fair questions. When people are paying more for gas, groceries and electricity, they are naturally worried about today.
I understand that because I am paying those bills too. But if we only look at the price on the gas pump, we are going to miss the biggest part of what President Trump is doing.
Remember Clinton and Bush’s new world order? Well for more than 30 years, presidents from both parties managed America’s decline, the only way the new world order works is to tear down America and build up the rest of the world. They sent our factories to China, made us depend on OPEC for oil and allowed foreign countries to control the minerals needed to run our economy. They called it free trade, but there was nothing free about America losing millions of jobs while China grew rich and powerful.
President Trump is the first president in my lifetime who looked at that entire system and said we are not doing this anymore.
He is not just trying to lower gas prices next month. He is rebuilding America so no foreign country can hold us hostage for the next 50 to 100 years.
His administration is negotiating a deal that could give the United States an ownership stake in more than a dozen Venezuelan oil fields holding around 90 billion barrels of proven reserves. If completed, that could more than double America’s oil reserves.
That oil will not reach your gas tank next week. Socialism destroyed Venezuela’s oil industry, and rebuilding it will take years and billions of dollars. President Trump is thinking past the next election and planning for the future of our children and grandchildren.
The fight with Canada is also about much more than a few tariffs. Canada has some of the world’s largest supplies of uranium, which is needed for nuclear power, and potash, which is needed to make fertilizer and grow food. At the same time, Canada has been sending uranium and potash to China while expecting full access to the American market.
President Trump is telling Canada it cannot have it both ways. You cannot expect all the benefits of being America’s closest trading partner while helping strengthen Communist China.
Canada must choose which side it is on.
That is a major reason behind this trade fight. The tariffs are leverage, not the final goal. Canada depends heavily on the American market and cannot replace it. President Trump holds the stronger hand, and I believe we will win if Republicans stand behind him and give him time to finish the job.
Now look at the whole map. The United States has oil, natural gas, farmland and manufacturing. Canada has uranium and potash. Venezuela has oil. Argentina, Chile and Bolivia have lithium. Brazil has iron, rare earth minerals and farmland. Mexico has manufacturing capacity.
The Western Hemisphere has almost everything we need to feed ourselves, fuel ourselves, build our own goods and defend ourselves without begging China, Iran, Russia or OPEC for anything.
That is what President Trump is really building.
He is building an America where Iran cannot raise the price of every gallon of gas by threatening one shipping lane. China cannot shut down our factories by withholding critical minerals. OPEC cannot control our economy by cutting oil production.
A war 8,000 miles away may still be a tragedy, but it should not become an American family’s mortgage payment. Our young people should be working good-paying jobs in American factories, mines and refineries instead of carrying rifles through another endless war overseas.
I am not telling you every decision will be painless or that everything will happen exactly as planned. No honest person can promise that. I am telling you there is a much bigger plan at work than the media is explaining.
Bukele just said what half the West is too scared to say:
God can save a criminal’s soul. A judge still has to put him in a cell.
That’s not cruelty. That’s civilization.
Mercy in the next life. Consequences in this one.
When America had a disagreement with Canada, Democrats sided with Canada.
When America had a disagreement with Iran, Democrats sided with Iran.
When America had a disagreement with Venezuela, Democrats sided with Venezuela.
Do Democrats ever side with America?
Some of y’all need to sit down.
Dolly Parton a woman who spent her entire life pouring love and money into people who never even said thank you, dies, and within minutes some of you are typing “wrong dead celebrity” like it’s a punchline.
That’s not edgy. That’s not activism. That’s just being a bad person.
You’ve let politics rot your brain to the point where you can’t even let a legend rest for five minutes without dragging Trump into her obituary.
And the worst part? Half of you posting it think you’re funny. You’re not funny. You’re the guy at the funeral who won’t stop talking about himself.
You want to hate Trump? Go ahead, that’s America, knock yourselves out. But if Dolly Parton’s death is the thing that finally shakes loose “I wish it was him” out of your mouth, that’s not politics anymore, that’s a personality disorder.
Dolly gave this world rhinestones, kindness, and “9 to 5.” The least you people can do is let her get buried before you start wishing death on someone else.
It’s ugly. It’s pathetic. And every one of you who posted it should probably just GFYS
It’s amazing to me how some people think they know me and can try to tell me I’m doing something wrong or “unchristian” simply by a post I make on here. To me, it shows more about you than it does me, because I know who I am. I know Whose I am. And if you don’t like something I post on MY page, you can freely scroll on past instead of trying to tell me I should “be careful what I post”.
We have forgotten how to DISAGREE.
A different opinion does not make someone your enemy.
We can debate and stand firm in our convictions. But hatred does not strengthen a nation.
It DESTROYS one.
America does not need 340 million people who agree on everything.
We need 340 million people who remember we are still ONE NATION regardless.
Me and my MAGA friends wake up each day looking forward to what Trump did while we were all sleeping. We stay happy all day doing things Americans like to do while our counterparts with TDS wake up more miserable each day. Why? Because without their knowledge, they have been TRAINED to hate Trump. That only happens to low IQ brains that are easily manipulated. MAGA people see right through each one of the hoaxes and laugh at how ridiculous the TDS sufferers are in their quest to finally GET TRUMP. But they never will because Trump has done nothing wrong. What a waste of a life.
@ZubyMusic This is one reason why there are suddenly a lot more single men. Men are leaving their girlfriends over their support for Lindsay Clancy, and rightfully so!
A woman can brutally murder all of her own children, CONFESS to it, and hordes of internet women will STILL find a way to blame it on men.
Incredible stuff.
Be wise out there, fellas.
Listen folks,
I ask questions to stir debate. I don't need personal attacks or accusations.
There is nothing wrong with asking questions, even the stupid ones.
We are here to communicate, not to attack each other.