Success feels different the older I get.
Less like a finish line, more like the quiet moments we almost miss while chasing one. A sunrise after struggle. Honest work. Time with people we love.
We admire the polished photograph and rarely ask what it cost to frame it.
But our definition of success is allowed to change. Maybe it should. What mattered deeply ten years ago may not whisper nearly as loudly now.
Every now and then, it is worth asking: what does success mean to me right now?
This short essay is about the road, the reevaluating, and the strange grace of becoming.
Maybe success is not arriving.
Maybe it is learning to walk the trail well.
Read full short essay about success here: https://t.co/ANmQ6LbOhZ
@MattWalshBlog Everyone should be ashamed of how they are treating this poor young widow. Leave. Her. Be.
Remember y'all, beauty is only skin deep. But, ugly? It goes clean to the bone.
Seek holiness.
To my mother, whom I miss daily, miss hourly, and in some ways miss with every breath, but still carry with me everywhere.
I carry you in the quiet moments, in the songs, in the things I notice, and in the man I am still trying to become.
Some days your memory feels close as sunlight through a window. Other days it feels like a cardinal in the sky, bright and sudden, as if love itself has found wings.
You are gone from my sight, but never from my heart. I still look for you. I still talk to you. I still thank God for you. And I always will.
Sometimes faith is not loud. It’s continuing to believe when the sky feels quiet, and the answers don’t come.
Not certainty.
Not proof.
Just trust.
And the quiet decision to keep praying anyway.
Sometimes the answers we’re searching for don’t arrive in big dramatic moments.
They appear quietly, in the still seconds when we pause long enough to look up.
Faith and doubt often walk beside each other.
Memory and hope do too.
Maybe the point isn’t having every answer, but continuing to ask, listen, and trust the path unfolding ahead.
Good stood against evil today, and the world felt it.
For too long, the Iranian regime has ruled through fear, violence, and terror.
In the past month alone, more than 32,000 Iranians were executed for protesting, for speaking, for daring to hope for freedom.
Families silenced. Voices erased. Lives taken simply for disagreeing.
So we have to ask, what would you have us do in the face of that kind of evil?
Stand by while a regime slaughters its own people and expands its reach of terror?
Ignore the threat as it advances its military capabilities and targets innocent lives beyond its borders?
Today, a decisive action removed dangerous leadership and weakened a force that has terrorized the region for decades.
This was not about starting a new war. It was about stopping terror, saving lives, and giving a suffering people a chance.
Now the Iranian people, who have longed for freedom, may have an opening they have not seen in generations.
Will they seize it and build something lasting? We do not know.
But we can pray for them, cheer them on, and hope they rise into that opportunity.
We can also mourn every innocent life lost, because every life matters, no matter where they live.
And we can pray for the safety of American and Israeli forces who stand against terror on behalf of the world.
This moment should unite us in compassion, courage, and clarity.
Step back from outrage. Look at what is truly at stake.
Today, good confronted evil, and by God’s grace, good prevailed.
President @realDonaldTrump will go down in history as one of the greatest and most consequential presidents we have ever had.
His ability and willingness to make bold and consequential decisions for the benefit of future generations based on the hard and cold facts at hand rather than short-term political considerations is one of his greatest strengths.
No longer are we governed by the politics of the weak who have brought us close to the edge with their weakness and self-interested short-termism.
God bless our nation, our military, and our president. Let’s all pray for our troops who risk their lives on behalf of all of us so we can look forward to a world where evil is eliminated and good prevails.
What we do in life echoes in eternity.
We sit at small tables, glowing screens between us,
counting likes like footsteps and mistaking echoes for company.
The room hums with connection, yet the chair beside me waits,
quiet, patient, hoping for something that lives beyond the screen
Maybe that is where the silence learns to speak again.
They can't keep acting like being trans isn't a mental illness that too often turns violent. If you deny basic reality, it's to be expected you know no bounds.
We can't let this story disappear. Innocent people DIED.