Tag: faith

Order in the Wilderness

December 19th, 2025

When we choose to live without order, we are choosing chaos. Chaos is not a thing in itself; it is simply the absence of order. There are moments when circumstances outside of our control thrust us into chaos without warning, but even then, it is always up to the individual to decide how they will move forward from that initial state. Reprieve is never automatic—it must be chosen.

The danger is that when we find ourselves inside chaos, it becomes easy to spiral deeper into it. This often happens because of a lack of faith, or worse, a hardening of conviction in the moment. God does reveal things to us, but there will always be realities that exist well beyond the reach of human understanding. This is precisely why faith is not optional—it is essential. We are always believing in something, but there is only one path that leads to true order, and that path aligns us with His will. Though chaos was never intended as our dwelling place, by grace, God is still able to draw purpose from it if we are willing to open our hearts.

For many of us, chaos takes the form of the wilderness.

When the Hebrew people were freed from Egypt, they repeatedly rejected order. Because of this, they wandered in the wilderness for forty years on the way to the promised land (Exodus 16–17; Numbers 14). On the surface, this appears to be punishment—a failure met with delay. But when viewed beyond a narrow lens, the wilderness reveals itself as preparation. God was not simply preparing them for life upon entering the land, but for generations that would follow. The wilderness was shaping a people, not just solving a moment.

This is where many of us struggle. When hardship comes, our focus turns inward. We think almost exclusively about the self. Some begin to blame God for their circumstances or for not removing them from the wilderness fast enough. What we often fail to see is that the present moment may not be only about us. We live within a design that prioritizes the whole over the individual. Yet this does not mean God is distant or indifferent. In the wilderness, He provides exactly what is needed, exactly when it is needed—manna for the day, not excess for the future (Exodus 16:4). This sustains us while building temperance.

Most of us, if we are honest, choose chaos over order.

Yes, there are moments when chaos comes uninvited, but there are also moments when it is the result of collective decisions. Sin feels personal, but its consequences are often communal. Our actions affect our environment, our families, and even the spiritual atmosphere we live within. This is why Scripture records entire cities being judged—not because God was unaware of the individual, but because the collective spirit had become corrupted (Genesis 18–19; Jonah 3–4). Even then, judgment never arrives without warning. Grace always precedes collapse.

God gives us opportunities to choose order before chaos reaches its fullest expression. Even when we are not living fully aligned, warning signs are present. The problem is that without order, we often lose the ability to see clearly. This is where walking by faith, and not by sight, becomes essential (2 Corinthians 5:7).

As we close this week, it is important to remember that we are participants, not owners, of the moment. We do not control circumstances—we only choose how we move through them. It is easy to fixate on whether we are living in darkness or chaos, but even in the most difficult moments, we are invited to remain present and open-hearted.

God cannot remove chaos from the world without removing our freedom to choose. But He loves us enough to use even unwelcome circumstances to shape our character. The wilderness molds us into vessels capable of carrying the Spirit and stewarding its gifts (Psalm 66:10–12).

If you are living in order today, practice gratitude.
If you are living in chaos, resist despair and search for purpose.

The treasure may be hidden, but once it is found, gratitude must follow. Do not seek chaos. Seek order—even when it corrects, disciplines, and refines.

Which will you choose today?
The Roots of Creation

December 8th, 2025

There was once a great tree that stood alone in a field. It stretched toward the sky, its branches heavy with sweet fruit. Within the tree lived a family who had dwelt there for generations. The tree fed them, sheltered them, and kept them warm in a cold world.

For as long as their history reached, this family journeyed out into the world to observe life and bring back stories. Some even returned with gifts from distant lands.

One day an adventurer returned with news of a faraway place where families lived not in one shared structure, but in many small ones—each with space of their own.
“Well, the family has grown,” the father said. “Perhaps we should make use of the land around us.”
So they cut down a branch from the tree and built smaller homes.

As they expanded, they built farther and farther from the tree, for its great roots made it impossible to lay foundations too close.

Another traveler eventually returned, carrying exotic vegetables and fragrant herbs. He showed how these new treasures could expand their meals.
“These taste incredible…but how will we get more?” the father asked.
The traveler presented foreign soil and seeds. Knowing what needed to be done, the family cut another branch and built gardens. The foods grew, and they rejoiced.

Then came a third traveler with stories of war in a distant land. He described an enemy invasion and the weapons used to fight them off.
The father grew afraid. “What if someone came to harm us?”
Driven by fear, the family cut down branch after branch until the tree stood barren. With the wood they built high walls and stockpiled weapons, preparing for a threat that had never arrived.

Years passed. The family forgot the tree that once sustained them.
Still barren, it remained standing—silent, unmoving.

Then a great storm came.
The homes were too weak and collapsed.
The foreign crops withered, unable to survive the climate.
The walls, built to protect them, caved inward and crushed many.
The weapons they forged could not defend them from the wind.

When the storm ended, the survivors cursed the land. They looked at the lifeless tree, saw no value in it, and moved far away. And once again, the tree stood alone in the field.

Years later, an old traveler returned—one who had delayed coming home because he had nothing new to show. But when he arrived, all he found was the tree.

He took refuge within it, gathering scraps left scattered on the ground and rebuilding a home inside its hollow.
In time, the tree began to grow new branches. It bore fruit again.
The traveler felt at home.
The tree was grand once more.

Last week we touched on the difference between being a consumer and being a creator. Today we dive deeper.

It is in human nature to create. It is also in our nature to want more. Neither force is wrong—they are simply part of our design. But the distinction matters because we are always choosing one or the other, consciously or not. Life is movement, and every choice sets another in motion.

The Preacher reminds us in Ecclesiastes that all things under the sun fade—that our greatest works will eventually be forgotten. Yet even in their impermanence, the actions of creation and consumption shape the experience we call life.

Consumption is a cycle without end, driven by desire without gratitude.
Wanting more is not the issue.
It is the lack of gratitude that corrupts us.

When caught in consumption, we mistake abundance for lack. We believe ourselves empty even when our hands are full. We cling to fears that were never ours, and those fears drive us to consume even more.

Eventually, we exhaust our own resources. Then we exhaust the people around us. Consumption does not care what it takes—only that it continues. And the more it is fed, the more it grows.
Life becomes external.
We stop thinking clearly.
And the only way out is to look inward.

Creation is the opposite movement.
When we shift our energy toward creation, fear transforms into possibility.
From the outside, it may appear as appetite or ambition—but inside, the spirit becomes full. The fruits of our labor become secondary. Often we forget we’re even creating at all.

Creation generates more creation.
A small act of kindness becomes a harvest of unexpected outcomes.
Yet even then, we are not meant to cling to the achievement. It is still only a moment—one meant to be enjoyed and then released. What matters is the joy of building, not the permanence of what was built.

As you enter the week, hold these questions close:

Where have you been creating?
Where have you been consuming?

Next, we will explore how to recognize the signs of unhealthy consumption.
For now, look closely at your actions in this moment and ask:

“Does this promote growth, or is this just a means to an end?”

There is no end.
Only the gift of this moment and what you choose to build within it.

Which side will you choose today?
When Evil Calls

December 3rd, 2025
All actions for mankind begin as a thought. When we live within creation, in flow, we are able to draw from its limitless potential and imagine great things. The words of Christ echo this sentiment: “But with God all things are possible.” – Matthew 19:26.

Humans, of course, have limitations in this natural world, as we are not God, but we carry His essence—and that is what gives the power of imagination. With this power, however, comes the ability to form evil. This is the origin of what we call the uncreated. In the beginning, all things operated in divine order. God loved us so much that He gave us the power of free will. With it, we could choose to operate within His order—or not. This connects to the ideas discussed in the earlier contentment vs. complacency post. When we reject divine order, we choose rebellion—and this is when evil is first conceived.

Not all evil presents itself as evil at first. Often, it appears as curiosity, drawing attention away from order. This is necessary for evil because it cannot exist without creation. That is why it is, in nature, “uncreated.” Uncreated things carry no essence of God, and good intentions are absent. Instead, they often masquerade as good to gain acceptance. Evil is viral, seeking survival by any means—even at the cost of its host.

When humans act strictly for selfish reasons, they participate in this evil nature. Recall when Jesus calls Peter “Satan” for attempting to convince Him not to do the will of His Father—a selfless act essential for the world. This illustrates the importance of distinguishing between objective and subjective perceptions of evil. Evil will attempt to manipulate, convincing individuals to look out only for themselves, while its own survival is the true aim.

Most people rely heavily on personal feelings when judging situations or others. This approach is flawed. As Scripture says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” – Jeremiah 17:9. Allowing emotions to dictate thought gives evil the opportunity to take root before manifesting outwardly. Discernment is necessary: is something objectively evil, or does it only feel so? God is the ultimate judge and can guide us in recognizing what is truly good or evil. Taking matters entirely into our own hands leads to the tragedies of the world.

It bears repeating: humans are not intrinsically evil. We assume evil identities. No one is immune to corruption while placing themselves as the ultimate authority. Reasoning and hearts are flawed when operating outside divine order. This is why it is critical not to elevate oneself above the highest authority. Yet, blind adherence to collective ideals is also unwise. An individual can be wrong, a group can be blind—but only the Spirit of the highest order guides in all truth. – John 16:13

As the week unfolds, pause to consider the origin of your actions. In moments of choice, ask yourself:
- “Are these thoughts truly my own?”
- “Am I reacting to sustain myself, or acting for the whole?”
Remember: evil exists only when allowed to. Even if a moment of evil occurs, it does not define the actor. Evil is uncreated; it requires participation to survive. Recognizing this truth diminishes its control. Evil is at most a moment of vulnerability manifesting as an unbecoming act. The most powerful response is not to dwell, but to move forward and create good.
Created Good, Formed Broken

December 1st, 2025

In the creation story we are given an account of how the known universe was made. But we’re also given deep concepts worth exploring. Scripture tells us that God created everything, and the last thing He created was mankind. The language used is poetic and intentional: everything God made is called “good.”

Yet when we look at the world through our own eyes, everything does not appear good. In fact, a pessimistic view sees mostly what is broken. Does that mean the creation story is just a fairytale meant to comfort children? I don’t think so. I believe it offers hints about how our universe actually works.

We live in a world that demands evidence before belief. But who decides what is “real”?
If it’s the individual, then reality is shaped entirely by mindset.
If it’s a group in authority, then reality becomes a collective agreement we submit to.

But as we will discover, not all real things require evidence — at least not evidence that the average mind recognizes — and much exists far beyond our understanding.

One of the biggest questions people ask, regardless of religion, spirituality, or atheism, is whether God is real. And if so, the next question naturally follows:
“If God is real, why does He allow evil?”

Today we want to go deeper. The real question is:
“Did God create evil?”

Sit with that for a moment.

The creation account says God created all things and that all He created was good. Yet evil clearly exists, so where did it come from?
If we reason through this carefully, we find that evil is not created — evil is uncreated.

In the creation story we are told that man was “formed.” Humanity came into being only after the combination of dust (matter) and spirit (breath). This choice of words matters. It shows there’s a difference between something being created out of nothing and something being formed from what already exists.

This distinction leads us toward understanding the true origin of evil.

In many esoteric traditions, all things begin in the mind — a principle known as mentalism. When paired with the principle of correspondence (“as above, so below”), we might say symbolically that the universe is the thought of God. Scripture tells us we are made in the “image of God,” which means, like any child, we carry traits of our Parent.

This doesn’t mean we are God — only that our natural impulse is to create.
But unlike God, we cannot create from nothing. We can only form what is already here.

This is why evil is not created; it is formed by those who perform evil acts. Evil feels unnatural to us because it goes against our original design. Evil is simply the absence of creation — a distortion, not a genesis.

Evil often looks like creation because it borrows from creation. It uses what’s already good as a host. But evil forms itself when we become consumers instead of creators — when we take in more than we give, when we destroy more than we build, when we reject the good that was already given to us.

This is why we must remember:
Our actions do not define who we are.
We define our actions.

A person can commit evil without becoming evil. But if someone fully aligns themselves with the spirit of destruction — refusing good again and again — they eventually fall into it. It is continual rejection, not a single act, that traps a person.

We live in a troubled world, but evil can only continue if we allow it to.
Even a strong sense of justice can blind us. Sometimes in fighting for our rights or the rights of others, we close our ears to anyone who disagrees — and this is exactly what evil wants. Evil thrives when we become fractured, complacent, and convinced our narrow view is the only one.

Human beings are not intrinsically bad. We were created good.
We are capable of both good and evil — and we must choose good.
This means our struggle is never truly with another person.
Our real battle is with something far deeper, something ancient, something that fights for survival within us.

This battle existed long before us and will continue long after we are gone.
But if we accept this truth, we can begin to heal.

This week we will explore how to recognize the difference between good and evil — between creation and destruction, between the formed and the unformed.

As we end today’s post, we invite you to reflect:
In the struggle you’re facing right now, are you being a creator or a consumer?
Where Fear Ends and Trust Begins

November 28th, 2025

Complacency and contentment are not just words — they are actions. And like every action, they begin as thoughts and eventually manifest in our lives. Because of this, we have to examine the thoughts that give birth to these two actions: fear and trust.

In every moment, one of the two becomes the lens we use to make our choices. That choice shapes how we interact with the world around us. But even then, it’s important to remember: you are not your choices, and every moment eventually passes.

When someone becomes complacent, it does not mean they are a lazy person. Laziness is a label, and labels belong to categories — but you do not. Fear is what tries to place you into categories. Fear is the enemy of our wholeness, and we should strive to discern between fear and the other thoughts that move through us each day.

Fear is not a created thing, so for us to recognize it, it must appear in a form familiar to us. Fear wears the mask of comfort, of wisdom, of knowledge. It tries daily to convince us that it has our best intentions in mind — but nothing could be further from the truth.

As we will explore in future topics, the uncreated cannot exist without creation. So fear needs us in order to live. It cannot simply take all of our life force, so it draws it out slowly and subtly, hoping to go unnoticed. Fear places us into what feels like an endless tunnel. It tells us not to move forward because only pain awaits us. It tells us that there is no light ahead.

We turn around and try to retrace our steps, and fear reminds us exactly how we got here. This state of inaction is what we call complacency.

But even in complacency, we are still moving — still choosing. We’re just choosing to do the same thing again and again because fear convinces us there is no other way.

We hold that belief in front of us as truth…

but what if there is a better way?

One of the greatest tricks the enemy uses is to keep us from seeing — or better yet, to keep us from looking at all. And when we finally do look, we often try to force what we see into our familiar categories so we don’t have to change our worldview.

But what would happen if instead of trying to stay afloat in the world you built for yourself… you allowed yourself to sink?

What if you walked deeper into the tunnel instead of retreating from it?

Not recklessly, but because you believe there is something more than what fear is presenting to you?

This theme appears throughout Scripture: to seek God is to desire more. This desire isn’t a flaw — it’s part of the design.

But to seek God, we must untether ourselves from the familiar and give ourselves fully to the unknown. This is what Scripture calls surrender. This is where trust begins. And trust is not a destination — it is the beginning of everything God intends to unfold.

We don’t always need to understand the fine details. We only need to believe one thing: the world is bigger than the individual, and accepting that frees us. When we trust God, we walk without anxiety. Not carelessly, but free from the fear that follows every pursuit of “more.”

We begin to believe in the promise written within us, and over time, we trust that our actions can lead to better outcomes.

Although we use “battle” language in spiritual warfare, there is one thing we want you to remember: the battle is already won if you choose to believe it’s won.

That doesn’t mean we become complete overnight. We remain human, and every moment still requires a choice:

fear or trust.

complacency or contentment.

the isolated self or the wider whole.

Like Adam and Eve, we often see ourselves as flawed and wonder why we should invest in the idea of the individual at all. But we were created good. We chose evil — but our actions are not our identity. They are simply choices made in moments.

We can always repent — turn — and move forward.

Or we can dwell in the house of pain and repeat the original sin of self-reliance and fear.

As we close this series, take a moment to reflect on this:

“Where am I living from fear in my life, and where can I trust more?”
When Comfort Imitates Contentment

November 26th, 2025

Comfort, Fear, and the Narrow Lens of Life

The story of the fall of man is vivid in imagery and full of wisdom about our condition. It wasn’t just the eating of the fruit that caused humanity to fall — it was their reaction afterward.

The moment Adam and Eve heard God’s voice, they hid.

That is what complacency does. It breeds fear, and then it convinces us that fear is safer than possibility. We settle into it like a home. We shut the door. We shut out new ideas, new opportunities, and even the presence of God.

We start placing all our faith in what we already know.

We begin to assume outcomes before taking any steps at all.

We tell ourselves: “What’s the point? I already know how this ends.”

And without realizing it, we slowly drain our own motivation.

We get stuck.

We blame circumstances.

We blame life.

We blame everything except the small fear we’ve made our home.

But because of grace, we’re never left without a way out.

Job: The Honest Side of Contentment

In the book of Job we witness a man who seemingly has it all and is genuinely grateful for what God has given him. Then in the unseen realm, Satan challenges Job’s integrity, insisting that Job’s righteousness exists only because his life is comfortable. And God allows the test.

Job begins strong. He worships. He trusts. He blesses the name of the Lord.

But as the losses continue — his family, his livelihood, his health — the internal fight becomes real.

Job begins questioning God.

He curses the day he was born.

He debates justice.

He demands answers.

He feels abandoned and unheard.

And his friends become reflections of his inner turmoil — repeating versions of his own thoughts back to him.

This is the truth we need to acknowledge:

Even the most righteous man can feel the pull of complacency.

Not laziness — but the desire to withdraw, to protect oneself, to stop expecting anything good from life.

Contentment didn’t prevent Job from reaching that place.

It just gave him something to return to.

When God finally speaks, He does not explain the test.

He reveals His sovereignty.

He shows that everything has a place in a design far bigger than Job’s understanding.

And in that moment, Job’s posture changes.

He returns to humility, gratitude, and trust — not because the pain is gone, but because his perspective is restored.

A Moment Is Just a Moment

A moment is just a blip in the vastness of eternity.

It is neither personal nor impersonal — it simply is.

“Everything has a time and a season.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1–8)

That truth can sound like an excuse for complacency, but when you sit with it, it actually becomes a call to live more fully.

Think back to being a kid and watching the rain ruin your plans.

At first, you sit there frustrated.

But eventually, you start to find new things to do — a toy you forgot about, a game you invent, a chore that somehow becomes fun.

That shift is gratitude.

And gratitude opens the door to contentment.

Contentment doesn’t settle for “this is all there is.”

It accepts the present moment while staying open to the moments God has yet to bring.

It widens your view.

It restores curiosity.

It invites purpose back into your life.

To be content is to trust something far bigger than yourself.

A Thanksgiving Reflection

As we approach Thanksgiving, it’s the perfect moment to ask:

“What in my life am I confusing comfort with contentment?”

This isn’t about regret.

It’s about awakening gratitude.

Let’s be grateful in all things — for the joys, and for the lessons.

For progress, and for pruning.

For victories, and for the strength built in hardship.

Set aside a moment and ask:

“Is there something I’m comfortable with that actually brings me pain, but I keep calling it happiness?” “Am I choosing ease over growth?” “Though this moment hurts now, could it be building something deeper in me?”

Nothing meaningful grows without effort.

These questions aren’t simple, but they are freeing.

If you feel led, share your stories of gratitude and growth with us.

We’d love to hear them.
Contentment Moves, Complacency Waits

November 24th, 2025

The Dreamer and the Fool

There were once two farmers who lived as close neighbors on treacherous land. The soil there was hard and stubborn, and because of this it was common to grow only the most resilient crops—beans, mostly. One of the farmers often had adventurous dreams about creating raised gardens that could grow any kind of crop he wanted. He dismissed these dreams year after year, but they continued returning, becoming heavier on his mind.

One day, during casual conversation, he shared one of these dreams with his neighbor—more for entertainment than anything else. But as he told the story, the neighbor grew excited by the possibilities of what the dreamer had seen. The dreamer laughed it off the moment he finished. After all, they were stuck with the land they had. Nothing could be done about it.

The next day, the dreamer saw his neighbor outside spending hours building the very garden bed he had dreamt about. He shook his head, thinking the neighbor a fool for wasting time instead of tending the crops he already had. But the fool saw things differently. He knew beans didn’t require much care to thrive, so instead of standing idle, he used his extra time to try something new.

Weeks passed as the fool continued his work, ending each day by tending his simple crops. Months passed as the dreamer watched him labor with no clear reward. To the dreamer, all this effort would be fruitless—so why waste so much time?

A year later, the dreamer came out of his home and much to his surprise saw new plants growing—plants he had only ever seen in his dreams. Soon after, the fool began harvesting the fruits of his labor. The dreamer watched him enjoy his new life and longed to share in it. But whenever he asked for some of the new crop, the fool asked for an exchange. The dreamer had nothing but beans.

Resentment began to grow in his heart. He felt the fool owed him something for using his dream. That resentment slowly fermented into hatred, and the hatred into silence. Eventually they stopped speaking. Years passed, then decades. When the dreamer reached old age, he told his descendants about the sins of the fool, using it as a warning: it wasn’t just the land that was treacherous—the world itself would hurt them too. And so the family depended only on themselves from that point forward.

The Difference Between Complacency and Contentment

This week’s topic is contentment versus complacency. These two words feel similar, but in reality they could not be more different. They may use similar language, but they offer completely different outcomes. Through the lens of complacency, it is easy to see ourselves as victims of circumstance. Through contentment, we are able to enjoy life regardless of circumstance. One keeps us stagnant, while the other invites us to keep moving forward. One makes everything look the same; the other opens a sea of possibilities. One offers pain but calls it comfort. The other offers comfort but is often mistaken for pain. Life is a series of choices between the two, and as you will see, those choices dictate exactly how successful we become.

How Complacency Keeps Us Stagnant

Complacency is often confused with contentment, but its implications are drastically different. Like stagnant water, it begins to gather contaminants over time. When we choose complacency, we blame outside circumstances for our current state of being. While we encourage acceptance, we do not advocate stagnation. This is the danger of externalizing what is happening internally. It is easier to blame people and situations than to look inward.

This does not mean you deserve blame more than others, nor does it mean external circumstances don’t exist. But the reality is this: anything that exists outside God’s original plan only continues if we choose to keep it there. Any form of oppression, hardship, or depression can change the moment we choose to act. The problem is that complacency convinces us we are already trying. But complacency is never action. It is inward inaction disguised as outward effort.

Because of grace, we receive dreams of a reality that already belongs to us. But instead of pursuing them, we often give them away to others and then resent their success. If others fail, we use it to justify our inaction. If they succeed, we feel owed something—forgetting that we ourselves never took a single step toward the dream.

Contentment: The Freedom of Surrender

Contentment also involves acceptance, but instead of shutting ourselves off, we surrender control back to God. Like a river, it flows naturally and maintains purity. This surrender is what breaks the cycle of complacency. Contentment allows us to see beyond ourselves. It opens doors instead of closing them. It invites movement without regret and creates momentum toward a better future. Ironically, a content person does not even cling to this future—they understand that dreams often die, but God’s promises never do.

To the content person, only the present moment matters. Not because they are blind to time, but because they trust God with all of it. The outside world will call this foolishness, but this is the path of true peace. When we realize God is always in control, every moment becomes an opportunity, not a roadblock. In every situation, we learn to be content—and contentment itself becomes faith that our needs will always be met — Philippians 4:11.

Choosing Movement Over Stagnation

Many people believe something is “wrong” with the world. This is true. But let us not use this truth as an excuse to do nothing. Instead, let this awareness bring clarity: every moment passes. Everything good or bad has a season, but no season is forever. Only God is eternal — Revelation 21:1. Life is simply a series of choices. We do not control creation, but we are promised that God will provide for us.

This provision may not always look how we expect, but that is why we must remain content in all moments while continuing to move forward. Complacency keeps the door shut. Contentment opens it—one moment at a time. And when that moment comes, you can choose regret…or you can choose to step through.

Which will you choose today?
Fragments of Light

November 21st, 2025

We live in a fractured society, but there is hope in that fracture. Some believe they are workers of light, while others believe they are children of darkness. I want to emphasize again that the battle is not between these two groups. The more we use this broken lens to view the world, the more likely the cracks will deepen. There is a clear divide between the two, but if we choose to meet in the middle ground, we will begin to see miracles. Today, we will go deeper into the concepts of false light and the shadow to explore how we can all reach this middle ground together.

When we strive to be children of the light, we tell ourselves that we will only do good. Sometimes we become so consumed by this idea that we lose sight of the purpose behind our actions. What begins as a force of good eventually becomes a source of self-fulfillment. This is the false light. Far too often we base our actions on feelings, and while that may seem like the proper way to live, Scripture warns us that feelings can betray us, for the heart can be deceiving — Jeremiah 17:9. We choose to do things in the name of love, but truthfully we perform these actions for a fleeting sensation. Now, instead of doing the work because it should be done, we look forward only to the feeling the action provides. True light work is then used as a means to an end. We know the difference between false light and true light because true light never fades — Ecclesiastes 7:1. Interestingly enough, false light is more closely related to darkness, or the shadow, than it is to true light.

Those who believe they are children of darkness internally believe they are incapable of “good.” Everything we do or say seems only to cause pain and destruction — this is the shadow of death. The issue with this view is that we choose to base our actions solely on our idea of what is righteous, and often that idea is shaped by false light. We know the difference because false light is easily consumed by darkness. This is why it sometimes feels as though light work is fruitless. In the darkness, any glimmer of light feels comforting, and when that source is gone, we grow impatient and disdainful. We begin to see darkness in everything we do. For many, this is the lowest point in life.

But I’d like to open a new view to everyone reading: there is hope in the darkness. The depth of your despair actually prevents false light from reaching you. Its density doesn’t allow something so weak and impure to pierce through the veil. This is why, when light finally reaches you in this state, you can be assured it is the true Light— not a feeling, but a knowing. We are all capable of hearing His voice, the voice of all things — John 10:27. But it begins with looking inward.

The key to both shedding false light and dispersing darkness is inward reflection. Like the boy in the story who found the mirror, at some point in our lives we must pick up a piece and take a good look at ourselves to find the source of our frustrations. For those in darkness, this often comes through solitude. For those in false light, the reflection can come from others. We are all mirrors ourselves, and this is why it is important to talk to each other — regardless of where we come from or what we believe.

We live in a fractured society, but what are the fragments? The fragments themselves are not just pieces of us — they are pieces of truth. God reveals absolute truth in many forms, and often that revelation comes through others. This may appear as a glimmer of light to remind the shadow-dweller that darkness is not the only thing in their life. Or it may come as a dark path to remind the light worker that they are only part of the truth, not the Light itself — John 1:8.

The enemy wants us to remain fractured. Imagine if we all considered, even for just a moment, that we could be wrong. Even more so, imagine acknowledging that the other side may contain some truth in their view as well. Imagine if instead of fighting one another, we listened and learned. This does not mean that light workers must conform to the works of darkness, or that darkness should overpower the light. Rather, we should come together, bringing what we know, and allow God to reveal the truth — together.

We assume we must be surrounded by those who agree with us in order to find truth. But I’m here to tell you today that there is nothing on this earth more powerful than a group of individuals with opposing perspectives who come together in the name of good — Matthew 18:20. In doing so, we begin to see the flaws in our hardened hearts. By reflecting inward — whether through ourselves or through others — we allow revelation. And through revelation comes redemption.

We all contain a little piece of light within us. Will you allow that light to shine in you today?
The Fracture

November 17th, 2025

There once was a boy traveling down a road toward a city he had longed to reach.
Along his path he noticed a shining object lying just off to the side of the road. Curious, he knelt down and picked it up. Much to his surprise, the object stopped shining the moment it touched his hands. Instead, he was greeted with what appeared to be the image of an eye.

The boy sat for a while, turning the strange object over in his hands, wondering what it meant. Before he realized it, the sun had retreated for the evening. Now the object showed nothing at all. Frustrated by the distraction, the boy tossed it aside and began setting up camp—he couldn’t continue forward without light.

The object quickly became an afterthought.

He rummaged through his belongings, gathering what he needed to build a fire. If he was going to remain there for the night, he at least wanted to be comfortable. As the fire grew, the discarded object—resting only a few feet away—began to shine again. Startled, the boy reached for it once more. And again, the eye appeared.

In that moment, he realized the truth:
he was seeing a reflection of himself.
And in that realization, he found comfort.

Greetings, my fellow readers and light workers. I’ve taken time away due to the passing of a loved one, but I am grateful to be writing again. Today, I want to speak on a concept I call “the fractured.”

We live in a world where our external circumstances often mirror what we hold internally. This does not mean we can control everything around us, but rather that we do control how we respond to it. Life is a tapestry woven from choices—yes and no. Sometimes our perspective becomes fractured, and when that happens, we can find ourselves lost either in darkness or in light.

But we were created as beings of both spirit and nature.
To live fully, we must learn to navigate both.

When we become overly fixated on one side—too spiritual to be grounded or too grounded to be spiritual—we lose sight of the gift we carry. Sometimes we even discard the very thing we need most. Yet because of grace, the truth never fully leaves us. As long as we are willing to choose it, the gift remains. Power is given to us to choose; we do not choose to be powerful.

For this reason, we must always remain aware—of ourselves on the inside, and of the people we have around us. Only then do we start to see what God has in store for us. Only then do we begin to truly live.

Many among us feel fractured.
But instead of seeing those pieces as a mess, I invite you to see each fragment for what it is:
a unique part of the whole.

Each piece is meaningful.
Each piece is necessary.
Without them, you are only partially yourself.

Some are blessed to begin whole and remain whole. Even if that is not your story, it does not make you lesser. Sometimes, seeing life in pieces is exactly what teaches us the truth—that the picture is far bigger than ourselves.

So I ask you:
Will you begin picking up your pieces today?
The Inheritance

December 17th, 2024

A Father’s Legacy

There was an older gentleman by the name of George. He had spent his entire life working hard to achieve many great things. Though he had acquired material wealth through many years of sweat equity, to him, his greatest achievement was his children. He adored his children so much that early on in their lives, he had already decided how he was going to leave behind everything they needed for the day he was gone.

As the years went by, his children began to drift away from George. It seemed the many things the world promised grabbed their attention, and before long, they even stopped calling to check in with him as frequently.

His heart grew heavy as he aged. The children he was ready to give great riches to no longer seemed interested in the inheritance. The man began to grow ill, and still, there was no one around. As he came close to the end of his life, one by one, his children began to return to him. Having his children around once again filled George’s heart with glee. This feeling was short-lived, though, as he had conversations with each of them and noticed how much things had changed. In their time away from him, they had experienced many hardships financially, emotionally, and mentally.

In his final moments, George experienced a great deal of peace, knowing that once he was gone, his children would be taken care of. He was happy that, through his passing, his children could find peace. George passed away the very next day, and the funeral was held. His children began to argue over what was left behind. Each had their own hardships and felt, no matter what George’s will stated, that they had a right to be free from their pain. Each was given their fair share of the inheritance.

George’s home, business, and a lifetime of material wealth began to fade as his children blissfully spent all that their father had lived for. Though this windfall solved their immediate problems, the children found themselves back in the same position a few years later. They were again lost to the world—and this time, without George.

The Pursuit of Happiness

This story is a familiar one—it seems to repeat itself over and over. We need to look at these situations from a holistic approach. More importantly, let us look at them from a universal standpoint. Oftentimes, we find that we are motivated by promises of a reward. When we choose to operate on this idea alone, we ignore performing actions with purpose.

While it is true we create our own purpose for fulfilling a task by seeking a reward, we miss the true purpose of the task itself.

As working adults, we often perform great things for others with the promise that they will pay us for our effort. The reason we do these things is that we are focused on paying debts we may have or purchasing items that we want. As we complete this cycle, the sense of fulfillment is short-lived. Before we know it, we are pursuing happiness again, only to discover that it is not in the places we are looking for it.

We often treat each moment as a means to an end instead of living the moment itself. What we achieve does not make us better human beings, but the experience does. If you study at a university for many years to become an engineer only to receive a diploma, this does not make you an engineer. Achieving success does not make one successful. Though it is important to be goal-oriented, it is equally important to become that which you seek and not just seek results alone.

That Which You Seek

As we live our lives, it is important to realize that this is all an experience for us. If you believe in an afterlife, it is nice to consider the idea that we may be going to a better place when we leave this world. But instead of just waiting to pass away to see this new world, we should try to achieve it while we are alive.

Performing an action due to a promise lacks sincerity. We have to find purpose in this life to find heaven in the next. Just like the story at the beginning of this entry, if we only do what we think will grant us a better inheritance, we will eventually find ourselves in a worse predicament afterward. We all have an inheritance, but it is not waiting for us in a distant future—it is here for us now. The only thing we need to do is grab it.

Today, I would like for you to try to forget about all of your troubles. Realize that God has already taken care of everything for you. Instead of seeking the world, try—even if it is for just a brief moment—to live with purpose. If you believe you do not currently have a purpose, realize that you only need to look within to find that which you seek. Begin with loving yourself.egin with loving yourself and all things will begin to open up for you.

Tag: faith

As you enter the week, hold these questions close:

The Dreamer and the Fool

The Difference Between Complacency and Contentment

How Complacency Keeps Us Stagnant

Contentment: The Freedom of Surrender

Choosing Movement Over Stagnation

The Pursuit of Happiness

That Which You Seek