Somewhere between heartbreak and holy fire

I’m writing this with my jaw clenched and tears just sitting there—right at the edge. Not sad tears. Angry tears. Tired tears. This world is so lost, and no one even cares. They laugh at God. They mock His name. They sin boldly like they’re invincible—and they’re proud of it.

I’m only 24, but I feel 100. I see people partying through their pain, “manifesting” instead of praying, worshiping crystals instead of Christ, and saying “universe” when they mean “God”—but they don’t want Him. Not really. They want the blessings, the safety, the peace—but not the Lord of Hosts who brings them.

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And honestly? I’m furious.

“The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’ They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is none who does good.” — Psalm 14:1

Lord, are You watching this?
Prayer 1: God, I’m begging You—burn away this apathy. Wreck the fake peace these people have. Tear through the arrogance with Your truth. Let the weight of eternity settle on them like thunder. They think it’s a joke. They think they’re safe. They are not safe.

I scroll through social media and see influencers joking about going to hell—like it’s some kind of edgy club. Do they even know what they’re saying? Do they know what hell really is? The torment? The eternal separation from You, the absence of light, of love, of hope? Do they realize they’re laughing about eternal damnation?

“And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.” — Revelation 20:15

Prayer 2: God, don’t let them die like this. Please. Don’t let them die thinking You were a myth. Wake them up. Do whatever it takes—rip their idols out of their hands if You have to. Wreck their comfort zones. Don’t let them stay blind.

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I talk to people I love—friends I grew up with, who used to come to church with me. Now they say “Christianity is toxic” and “God is oppressive.” No, what’s toxic is this world convincing people they can live without the One who created breath. What’s oppressive is sin—chaining people, calling it freedom.

Hell isn’t unfair. It’s not cruel. What’s cruel is knowing the truth and staying silent while people walk into it.

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many.” — Matthew 7:13

Prayer 3: Jesus, I need to know You’re still breaking hearts open. That You’re still drawing the lost. Because I feel like I’m screaming into the void and no one hears me. Everyone thinks they’re “spiritual” now. But without You, it’s all empty. Dead. Demonic, even.

Some days, I want to shake people. Scream in their faces. “Wake up! You’re not just ‘going through a phase.’ You’re playing chicken with eternity. You think you have time—but you don’t.” I wish I could show them even one second of what hell looks like. The regret. The finality. The burning knowledge that they rejected grace.

“They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might.” — 2 Thessalonians 1:9

Prayer 4: Father, help me carry this. Help me not to let my anger become pride. You love them more than I ever could. You died for them, even while they mocked You. Make me bold without being bitter. Help me to speak truth with fire and compassion.

I know I sound harsh. Maybe I am. But it’s because I know what’s coming. I know eternity is real. Heaven isn’t a fairy tale. Hell isn’t a metaphor. It’s not some literary device—it’s God’s wrath, forever. And people I love are headed there because they want to be their own gods.

I know I can’t save anyone. Only You can. But I refuse to act like it’s not urgent. I refuse to be lukewarm. I’d rather be hated for speaking truth than be popular for staying silent.

“Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” — John 3:36

Prayer 5: Lord, use me as a warning if You must. Let my life shout Your name. Let my words carry eternity. I don’t care if they call me a fanatic, or a freak. I care that they know You. I care that they don’t burn.

There’s this lie going around that a “loving God would never send people to hell.” But they forget: He gave us a way out. He sent His Son. He bled for us. If we choose to reject that—what else is left? Hell isn’t a contradiction of His love—it’s the consequence of refusing it.

I’m writing this because I feel like I’m suffocating. Everyone’s so numb. So casual. And I’m sitting here with fire in my bones and no one wants to hear it. But I’ll keep saying it. I’ll keep praying. Even when I’m exhausted. Even when I’m alone.

Because eternity is coming, and I refuse to pretend otherwise.

Amen.