I Found This Page Laying On The Ground
You wake inside trouble.
It is already in your mouth, metallic,
already tightening your chest.
But this pressure is not pointless—
it is the gymnasium of the soul.
Endurance is built the way muscle is:
by tearing, by repetition, by staying.
If you do not know how to live inside this,
ask for wisdom plainly—
not with crossed fingers,
not while planning your escape.
A divided mind is a body pulling itself apart.
No one sins by accident.
Desire conceives quietly,
then swells, then demands to be born.
You cannot bless God with the tongue
that flays your neighbor alive.
The mouth is a small organ,
yet it can burn a forest.
Listen longer than you speak.
Anger feels like power
but produces nothing worth keeping.
Real devotion looks like this:
protect the vulnerable,
and do not let the world harden you.
If you bend toward wealth
as though it were light,
you have misunderstood gravity.
Faith that never moves the hands
is already dead.
Belief that costs nothing
is worth exactly that.
You say you trust God—
show it in what you build,
in who you stand beside
when it would be easier to stand away.
The body knows what faith is
by what it does when no one applauds.
You plan tomorrow
as if breath were guaranteed.
Say instead: If we live.
Your riches rot faster than you think.
Be patient—
the earth knows how to wait for rain.
Suffering is not proof of abandonment.
Pray when it hurts.
Sing when it lifts.
Confess to one another
so the wound can breathe.
The one who turns another back from ruin
saves a life—
and covers a multitude of endings.
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