Tag: bible

The Gospel According to Hip-Hop: Rap Music is Unbiblical

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

Dear Lord,

I come before You (God), not just heavy-hearted—but righteously burdened. My spirit is grieving. I feel like I’ve been exposed to a spiritual sewage system, and I’m still trying to wash it off. Today I finished something I wasn’t excited to do, but I knew I had to. For the sake of truth. For the sake of conviction. For the sake of clarity. I watched and listened to 20 of the most popular rap songs and music videos—from across regions, races, and genders. West Coast. East Coast. South. Canada. White rappers. Black rappers. Female rappers. Mainstream ones everyone worships. The ones you can’t escape on TikTok, YouTube, or even in stores. I consumed it all, and Lord…I feel sick.

Rap music is unbiblical. It’s not just problematic—it’s spiritually dangerous.

All 20 glorified drug use. 17 of 20 pushed alcohol like it’s a sacrament. Every single one glorified sexual promiscuity. Every single video objectified women—half-naked, posed like decorations. All 20 glorified violence. 14 of them mentioned strip clubs like they’re casual hangout spots. All of them idolized wealth and greed. 4 of the 20 bragged about having children with multiple women, like it’s a trophy.

God, what are we doing as a culture? What are we swallowing with these beats?

I kept thinking of 1 John 2:15-17 while watching:

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.”

Every single one of those rap videos was a shrine to the desires of the flesh. A literal soundtrack for sin. A celebration of things that destroy souls and communities. And we’re bopping our heads to it?

God, forgive us.

I’m not some uptight religious prude. I’m 25. I grew up with this music in my ears and in my environment. But now I’m looking at it through Your eyes, through Scripture, through discernment—and I can’t pretend anymore.

I can’t clap to a beat that mocks Your holiness.

I can’t nod to lyrics that normalize violence, glorify fornication, and treat women as body parts.

I can’t pretend it’s “just entertainment” when it’s shaping how people live, how they love, how they parent, how they define success.

Let me say this too: This is not about race. This isn’t about white rappers or Black rappers. This is about spirit.

This is about what spirit is operating behind this music.

Because from what I listened to, it’s not the Holy Spirit.

It’s a spirit of perversion.
A spirit of rebellion.
A spirit of lust.
A spirit of greed.
A spirit of violence.
A spirit of mockery toward anything sacred.

Ephesians 5:11 says:

“Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.”

And that’s what I’m doing. Not out of self-righteousness. Not out of legalism. But out of obedience and love.

I’m calling this out because we’re pretending this stuff is neutral when it’s clearly anti-God. And I’m tired of being quiet.

God, how have we let this become our culture’s voice?

Why is music that glorifies:

  • Murder
  • Drug dealing
  • Strippers
  • Cheating
  • Porn-like visuals
  • Disrespect of women
  • Idolatry of money

…become what we call “art” and even worse—“inspiring”?

Isaiah 5:20 comes to mind:

“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness.”

That’s what’s happening.

We’re dressing up sin in catchy beats and slick production, and then wondering why our generation is depressed, addicted, broken, fatherless, and obsessed with sex and money.

And You know what’s worse, Lord? Some Christians are defending it.

There’s nothing redemptive about a song that tells young boys they’re real men if they sleep with 10 women and kill their enemies.
There’s nothing holy about a woman rapping about abortion like it’s a power move and calling herself a god.

Nothing about that reflects You, Jesus.

And if we’re honest, we know it.

Father, cleanse my mind.

I honestly feel like I need to fast after today.
I saw too much. Heard too much.
I felt it in my spirit. The grime. The pride. The lust.
It made me sad. It made me mad.
It made me want to throw my phone into a lake.

But I know hiding isn’t the answer. Speaking truth is.

Psalm 101:3 says:

“I will not set before my eyes anything that is worthless. I hate the work of those who fall away; it shall not cling to me.”

I don’t want this music clinging to me. I don’t want it clinging to my friends. I don’t want it in my house, in my car, or in my spirit.

Holy Spirit, speak to those who’ve been numbed by this culture.

Speak to the girl who thinks she has to twerk to get attention.
Speak to the boy who thinks he’s worthless unless he’s rich and feared.
Speak to the artist who once had a calling but sold out for fame.
Speak to the Christian who shrugs off this music because “everyone’s listening to it.”

Wake us up, Lord.

I’m praying bold prayers tonight.
Not weak ones. Not soft ones.

Because we’re in a war. And the enemy is using art, music, culture, and pride to lull us into destruction.

Prayer:

God, I pray You shut the mouths of artists who are poisoning minds for profit.
I pray You convict every heart that’s listening to sin with delight.
I pray You give spiritual ears to the deaf.
I pray You raise up a generation that doesn’t just love beats—but loves truth.
I pray You remind Your people that holiness still matters. That purity is still power. That our minds are temples, not trash cans.
I pray for mercy over the youth who are consuming this filth, not knowing it’s rotting their souls.
I pray for revival in the music world.
I pray for repentance in the churches that are silent.
And I pray for strength to keep speaking truth—even when it’s unpopular.

Final Thought:

This isn’t about being “anti-rap.”
This is about being pro-holiness.
It’s about being pro-Jesus.
And honestly, if that makes me seem “intense” or “religious” or “judgmental,” then so be it.

I’m not here to be liked.
I’m here to be faithful.

Lord, help me always choose conviction over comfort.
Even if I’m the only one not dancing to the beat of Babylon.

Amen.

Why Do the 10 Commandments Scare Liberals and Atheists?

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

I can’t seem to stop thinking about the world around me and how far we’ve drifted from God. I was scrolling through the news this morning while sipping my coffee, and I saw another story about how public schools are being pressured to ban displays of the Ten Commandments. Again. It breaks my heart. What’s happening to our nation?

I’m 25. I was raised in a Christian home. I’ve never doubted that the Bible is the Word of God and that Jesus Christ is Lord. But more and more, I feel like I’m living in a world where loving God openly is seen as controversial—or even offensive.

Why do the Ten Commandments scare liberals and atheists so much? Why do they fight so hard to keep them out of schools, out of courthouses, off of walls, and out of sight?

The Ten Commandments are not hateful. They don’t incite violence. They don’t promote division. They are a simple, powerful list of God’s moral expectations for us. They’re good. They’re righteous. And I truly believe they are exactly what our nation needs right now.

CLICK TO CHECK OUT THE YOUTUBE CHANNEL THAT ATHEISTS CANNOT STAND

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” — Proverbs 9:10

I keep going back to that verse, and I wonder: is that what this is really about? Are people afraid of the wisdom that comes from fearing God? Maybe they don’t want to be reminded that there is a higher authority—Someone greater than themselves. We live in a culture that tells us to be our own gods. To follow our truth. To reject anything absolute. But God’s commandments are absolute. They don’t change with the times. They don’t bend to public opinion.

“You shall have no other gods before Me.” — Exodus 20:3

Isn’t that the first issue? We’ve created a society that worships self. We idolize fame, success, sexuality, independence, and human reasoning. That’s probably why the Ten Commandments feel like a threat to people who don’t believe in God or who follow secular or liberal ideologies. God’s commandments call out sin. They expose the parts of ourselves we’d rather keep hidden. And no one likes to be told they’re wrong.

Even for me—someone who believes wholeheartedly—there are times when God’s commandments are convicting. I read them and realize how far I fall short. But that’s the point. They’re meant to lead us to repentance and to Jesus, who fulfilled the Law perfectly.

A Prayer:

Lord Jesus, thank You for Your perfect law that teaches us right from wrong. Thank You that when we fall short, You offer us grace and salvation through Your sacrifice. Help me, Lord, to never be ashamed of Your Word. Give me courage to stand for truth even when the world mocks it. Amen.

I think liberals especially see the Ten Commandments as “imposing religion.” They argue that schools are supposed to be neutral, but the truth is, they’re not neutral anymore. They promote secular ideologies all the time—like gender identity theory, moral relativism, and humanism. Those are belief systems. They just don’t want God to have a place.

Atheists, on the other hand, often argue that morality doesn’t require religion. But I wonder—if there’s no God, then what’s the foundation for good and evil? Who gets to decide what’s right and wrong? Without an objective standard, everything becomes subjective. That’s what we’re seeing now. A generation of young people raised to believe there are no absolute truths—and we wonder why society feels chaotic.

“Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” — Judges 21:25

That verse feels like a perfect summary of modern culture. When people reject God’s commands, they end up creating their own. And those man-made rules constantly shift based on feelings, trends, and popular opinion.

I remember learning the Ten Commandments in Sunday school as a little girl. I still remember the colorful poster on the wall:

  1. No other gods
  2. No idols
  3. Don’t misuse God’s name
  4. Keep the Sabbath holy
  5. Honor your parents
  6. Don’t murder
  7. Don’t commit adultery
  8. Don’t steal
  9. Don’t lie
  10. Don’t covet

There is nothing harmful in these commands. In fact, if everyone just lived by even half of them, the world would be a better place. Less crime. Less cheating. Less greed. Less selfishness.

“For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. And His commandments are not burdensome.” — 1 John 5:3

God never gave us these laws to control us or to make us feel small. He gave them because He loves us. He wants to protect us—from each other and from ourselves.

So when I see people fighting so hard to remove the Ten Commandments from public view, I don’t see that as strength—I see it as fear. They’re afraid of truth. Afraid of conviction. Afraid of accountability.

But more than anything, I think they’re afraid of surrender.

Because once you admit there’s a God, you have to reckon with the fact that you are not Him. And that means you need saving.

A Prayer:

Father God, I lift up this nation to You. We’ve strayed so far from Your truth. So many hearts are hardened. So many minds are deceived. But I know nothing is too hard for You. Lord, open the eyes of the lost. Let Your Word go forth boldly in schools, in homes, in churches, and in government. Let revival begin, even if it starts with just a few faithful hearts. Let it start with me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I don’t write all this because I think I’m better than anyone else. I’m not. I’m just a sinner saved by grace. But I can’t stay silent anymore. I can’t keep watching the world fall apart while Christians are told to stay quiet, to be “tolerant,” to keep our beliefs to ourselves.

The Ten Commandments aren’t hate speech. They’re God’s loving boundaries. And the more we ignore them, the more damage we cause. That’s not just theory—I see it in the brokenness around me. Broken families. Confused kids. Violence. Addiction. Anxiety. So much of it is spiritual.

God’s law isn’t outdated—it’s timeless. He knew what humanity would need, even thousands of years later. We keep trying to reinvent the wheel, but all we do is make it wobblier.

“Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.” — Proverbs 14:34

We need righteousness again. We need to lift up God’s truth—not hide it away like it’s shameful.

So tonight, I’m praying boldly. I’m asking God to give Christians courage. To give school leaders wisdom. To give lawmakers conviction. And to give lost hearts a hunger for something real.

Because nothing is more real than God.

Final Prayer:

Lord, I know You are still on the throne. No court ruling, no social trend, no political movement can dethrone You. Help me trust in Your plan. Help me be a light in this dark world. And help me never be ashamed of the gospel or the commandments that reflect Your holy character. Give me grace to speak truth in love. And give me strength to stand, even if I stand alone. I love You, Lord. I trust You with my life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Angels at My Side: Divine Protection in Psalm 91

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

There’s something about psalm 91 that grips my soul so tightly — like God Himself is wrapping me in His arms and saying, “You’re safe here.” And honestly, I needed that reassurance today.

The world feels… loud. Chaotic. Dangerous even. Fear has been creeping around the edges of my mind lately — fears about the future, my safety, the unknown. But then I read:

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.”
— Psalm 91:1

That line stopped me in my tracks. There’s a secret place with God — a place not everyone chooses to live in, but it’s always available to us. A place of peace that the world can’t touch. And the word “abide” — it’s not a temporary visit. It’s home. God wants me to dwell in Him, not just run to Him in crisis.

Lately, I’ve been rushing through my time with Him, praying with distracted thoughts, reading Scripture with one eye on my to-do list. But Psalm 91 isn’t about quick, surface-level faith. It’s about abiding. Living. Resting. Trusting.

Prayer #1: A Prayer to Dwell Deeply in God

Father,


I want to dwell in Your secret place — to live, move, and breathe in Your presence daily. Pull me in deeper. I don’t want to just visit You on Sundays or when I’m afraid. I want to abide under the shadow of the Almighty every moment of my life.


Teach me to build my home in You, not in the comfort of circumstances or the illusion of control.


In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I continued reading, and my heart leapt again:

“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.’”
— Psalm 91:2

My God. My refuge. My fortress. Not someone else’s. Not a distant deity, but a personal protector.

And yet, sometimes I still struggle to fully believe I’m protected. That I’m safe. Not because God isn’t able — I know He is — but because I wrestle with feeling worthy of His protection.

But He’s never asked me to be worthy — only willing to trust.

Prayer #2: A Prayer of Trust

Lord Jesus,


I choose to say it out loud today: You are my refuge and my fortress. I trust You. Even when I feel afraid. Even when the world shakes. Even when the enemy whispers lies.
You are stronger. You are greater. You are my shield.


Cover me in Your truth and help me walk in confidence, not fear.


In Your mighty name, Amen.

As I kept reading, I felt a blanket of peace fall over my heart:

“He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge; His truth shall be your shield and buckler.”
— Psalm 91:4

The image of God having wings — it’s so tender, so gentle. Not just powerful, but safe. Like a mama bird guarding her babies, fierce and loving all at once.

I closed my eyes and pictured myself under those wings — hidden, unseen by danger, wrapped in love.

Truth is, I’m not immune to fear. Some nights I wake up and feel the weight of anxiety pressing on my chest. But Psalm 91 reminds me that God’s presence is more than a comforting idea. It’s a fortress. A place I can physically retreat to in my spirit.

“You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day…”
— Psalm 91:5

Those verses feel like they were written for me.

Prayer #3: A Prayer for Nighttime Peace

Heavenly Father,


When the night feels long and fear creeps in, let me rest under Your wings.
Silence the voice of anxiety and remind me of Your truth.


Cover my mind with peace and let me sleep knowing I am loved, seen, and protected.
You do not slumber, so I can.


In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Sometimes I wonder: How many battles has God fought for me that I never even saw?

How many accidents were prevented, how many spiritual attacks deflected, how many close calls diverted — all because of His hand over my life?

Psalm 91 says:

“For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.”
— Psalm 91:11

God commands angels concerning me. That blows my mind. Not because I’m special — but because He is. Because His love is that intimate. That fierce. That real.

I’ve felt moments — strange moments — where I know something unseen was watching over me. A delayed flight that saved me from something I’ll never know. A gut feeling that kept me from driving a certain route. A narrow escape from a toxic relationship. I see His fingerprints all over my past, even when I didn’t recognize them at the time.

Prayer #4: A Prayer of Gratitude for Protection

Heavenly Father,


Thank You for protecting me — in ways I see, and in countless ways I never will.
Thank You for sending angels to guard me. For orchestrating divine detours. For being ahead of me and behind me, hemming me in with Your love.
I’m safe, not because I’m lucky, but because I’m Yours.


Thank You, Jesus. Amen.

The final verses of the psalm are God’s direct promise — and they took my breath away:

“Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high, because he has known My name.”
— Psalm 91:14

“He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him.”
— Psalm 91:15

“With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation.”
— Psalm 91:16

These verses are God’s voice — not David’s. Not a psalmist. God Himself is speaking. And it’s so personal. Because she has set her love upon Me… because she knows My name… because she calls on Me…

That’s me. That’s my story. I know His name. I love Him. I call upon Him. And He promises to answer.

He never said trouble wouldn’t come. He said, “I will be with her in trouble.” And honestly, that’s even better. Because I don’t want a life without trouble if it means a life without Jesus.

Prayer #5: A Prayer to Know God’s Presence in Trouble

Loving Father,


You never promised a life without pain, but You promised never to leave me in it.
You promised to be with me in the fire, in the storm, in the valley.


So even when trouble comes, I won’t fear. You are my Deliverer, my Defender, my Salvation.
Draw near to me. Let me feel Your presence more than I feel the pressure around me.


I trust You with my life — now and forever.


In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I feel wrapped in something holy. Not because my circumstances changed — but because I remembered who God is.

Psalm 91 is not a magic shield from all harm. It’s a promise of God’s presence, God’s priority, and God’s peace in my life. It’s about knowing where to run, not just when danger strikes, but every single day.

It’s about trusting not just in what God can do, but in who God is.

He is my secret place.
He is my shadow.
He is my refuge.
He is my wings.
He is my home.

Scriptures to Reflect On Tonight:

  • Psalm 91 (the whole chapter — it’s that good)
  • Proverbs 18:10 — “The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.”
  • Isaiah 41:10 — “Fear not, for I am with you…”
  • Romans 8:31 — “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

Thank You, God, for the angels at my side, the peace in my soul, and the secret place where I am always known, always safe, and always loved.

Whispers of Mercy: A Christian Prayer of Forgiveness

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

My heart has been stirring around lately by things I’ve kept buried deep — wounds I pretended didn’t matter, words I’ve long tried to forget, people I told myself I’d forgiven, yet my heart says otherwise.

I’ve realized something tonight: All Christians — not just me — have been hurt by others. Every single one of us has faced betrayal, heartbreak, disappointment. It’s part of this broken world we live in. But holding on to the pain doesn’t heal it. It cages it. And in turn, it cages me.

There’s someone… maybe more than one… who has caused anger and bitterness to rise in me more than I ever wanted to admit. I thought ignoring the feelings was the same as overcoming them. But that’s not true. The pain has just been hiding, simmering beneath my prayers and smiles.

Tonight, I’m ready to be honest.

Prayer #1: A Prayer to Release Bitterness

Heavenly Father,

I lay my heart bare before You. You know the hidden bitterness I’ve held onto — the anger I thought was justified. Lord, I’m tired. I don’t want to carry it anymore. I choose to forgive, even if my feelings aren’t there yet. Help my heart to follow the truth of Your Word, not the deceit of my emotions.

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger… Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” – Ephesians 4:31-32
I want to live in that freedom. I want to forgive, as You forgave me. Please help me.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

There’s this idea I used to believe — that forgiving someone meant saying what they did was okay. But it’s not. It wasn’t. And God sees that. What they did broke something in me. But God also doesn’t ask me to pretend. He just asks me to trust Him. That’s what forgiveness is: trust.

I have judged people harshly in my heart, secretly wishing God would repay them for what they did to me. But tonight, Lord, I surrender those thoughts to You.

“Do not repay anyone evil for evil… Do not take revenge… but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.” – Romans 12:17-19

Prayer #2: A Prayer of Surrender


Jesus,


I surrender every person who has wounded me into Your hands. I give up the desire to punish them with silence, with coldness, with bitterness.

That’s not who You’ve called me to be. Because You are my Lord, I free them from my judgment and my sinful reactions.


I give them back to You — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. You alone are the righteous Judge. Help me to see them as You see them, not through the lens of my pain.


I place them at Your throne of grace.


In Your mercy, Amen.

I once read that unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. That stuck with me. I see it now more clearly than ever — it’s not just about them, it’s about my heart being held captive.

And Jesus died to set my heart free.

So why do I still grip the chains so tightly?

Prayer #3: A Prayer to Let Go


Heavenly Father,


I’m loosening my grip. I’m placing all my expectations, my disappointments, and my unanswered questions at the foot of the cross. I don’t need answers anymore. I need You.
I release them. I give them entirely to You. I loose them and let them go.
I want to walk in freedom. Please fill every space in me that hurt tried to own. Fill it with Your Spirit. Fill it with love.


“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7
I cast this pain to You, Lord.
Amen.

It’s hard to admit that even after all You’ve forgiven me for, I still wrestle to forgive someone else. That I still put up walls and guard my heart in ways You never asked me to.

But Your Word says:
“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” – Matthew 6:14-15

That hits deep. I can’t live in grace and deny it to others.

God, it humbles me. Who am I to hold someone’s sin against them when You have washed away my own?

Prayer #4: A Prayer for Humility and Grace


Lord Jesus,


You forgave me before I ever said sorry. You saw my mess, my rebellion, my brokenness — and You loved me still. Teach me to love like that.


Help me to forgive even if the apology never comes.
Help me to bless even when I feel cursed.


Help me to extend grace, the way You flood it over me every day.
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8


Let that be the standard of my love.


Amen.

I don’t want a heart hardened by past hurts. I want a soft heart — one that reflects Jesus. I want my healing to glorify Him. And maybe part of that healing is praying for the one who caused the pain.

It doesn’t make what happened right. But it makes me free.

And when I pray for them… something inside me softens. It’s like heaven breathes on a wound I thought would never stop bleeding.

Prayer #5: A Blessing Over Those Who Hurt Me


Father God,

I bless those who have hurt me. I choose to see them as You do — not through bitterness, but through Your mercy.

I pray they would know Your love, Your grace, and Your truth. I ask that You do a mighty work in their lives, and in mine.

I bless them to become all You’ve created them to be. Let Your kindness lead them to repentance, and let Your peace reign in their hearts.

And if it is Your will, bring reconciliation. But even if that never comes, I still choose love.
“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” – Matthew 5:44

Give me a heart like Yours.


In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Tonight, I breathe a little easier. Not because everything is fixed. But because I’m starting to let go.

I see now that forgiveness is not a one-time choice. It’s a daily surrender. A daily cross. A daily decision to trust God more than my feelings.

And so, I will keep choosing it. Again and again.

I’ll keep placing those people — and my pain — at the throne of grace.

Because I want to be free.
Because I want to love like Jesus.
Because I belong to Him.

And if He can forgive me, then by His power, I can forgive too.

Scriptures to Meditate On Tonight:

  • “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” – Psalm 51:10
  • “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” – Matthew 5:7
  • “Bear with each other and forgive one another… Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” – Colossians 3:13

Jesus, thank You for whispering mercy to my soul tonight. Thank You for Your patience, Your love, and the cross.

Let my life echo Your forgiveness.

With all my heart,
CTN (Christian Tech Nerd)

Loving the Unlovable (Help Me God)

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

Dear Lord,

Some days I wonder why You allow certain people in my life — the ones who seem to make my spirit cringe, who mock what is sacred to me, or who just constantly seem… difficult. The ones I might never say it about out loud, but who I sometimes label in my heart as unlovable.

Tonight, I’m asking myself a question I’ve been avoiding:
If I refuse to love the unlovable… do I really love You?

That’s a hard thing to admit. But Your Word is direct, and You don’t allow me to sit comfortably in my “good intentions.” You ask for my whole heart — including the way I treat the people who test it the most.

Your Word in 1 John 4:20-21 pierced me again tonight:

“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from Him: whoever loves God must also love his brother.”

God, I say I love You — and I mean it. I really do. My whole life is Yours. But if I’m being honest, there are people I’ve emotionally written off. I avoid them, criticize them in my mind, get irritated every time I see them or hear their voice. They don’t know You, and some even mock You openly — and it makes me feel awkward, angry, or even afraid.

But You didn’t give me permission to retreat from them.

You didn’t call me to love only when it’s easy.
You didn’t say, “Love your neighbor unless they disagree with you.”
You didn’t say, “Be kind only to those who understand you.”

You said:

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” – Matthew 5:44

You said:

“Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” – Luke 6:36

You commanded me to love — not because they deserve it, but because You loved me first, undeservedly.

“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” – Romans 5:8

So Lord, how can I withhold love from someone else when You never withheld it from me?

I think what scares me is how much I still let my emotions lead. When someone offends me or behaves in a way that feels “godless,” I immediately feel this wall go up. I want to protect myself. I want to distance myself. But maybe You allow these people into my life not to torment me — but to transform me.

God, shape my heart into Yours.

Let me not be quick to take offense, but quick to offer grace.
Let me not retreat into silence, but speak with patience and wisdom.
Let me not feel superior, but humbled that I even know You at all.

Because the truth is, the only difference between me and someone who irritates or mocks or rejects You… is grace. That’s it. I didn’t earn it. I didn’t achieve salvation. I was rescued. And I want others to be rescued, too — even those who right now feel impossible to love.

Soften my heart, Lord.

Help me remember that people are not projects or problems — they are souls. Souls You formed. Souls You long to save. Even the rude ones. Even the loud ones. Even the dismissive, arrogant, or sarcastic ones.

“The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise… He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” – 2 Peter 3:9

If You are patient, how can I not be?

Lord, here is my prayer tonight:

Father,
Help me to love those who test me.
Help me to see them through Your eyes.
Not as obstacles in my day, but opportunities for grace.
Let my irritation become intercession.
Let my distance become compassion.
Let my judgments be replaced with prayers.

I surrender the “right” to be offended.
I surrender the tendency to retreat.
I surrender my pride that tells me I’m better.
I just want to love like Jesus.

Let my heart be soft but strong.
Let my words be gentle but rooted in truth.
Let me reflect You, not just when it’s easy — but especially when it’s not.
Amen.

Lord, loving the unlovable might be one of the greatest tests of true discipleship. You said people would know we are Yours not by how much we know, or how well we argue, or how holy we look — but by how we love.

“By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” – John 13:35

I want to be Your disciple. I want my life to bear the fruit of Your Spirit, not just when I’m alone with You, but in the tension of real relationships — in the messy, uncomfortable, unpredictable places.

Because honestly, that’s where Your love shines brightest — in the places where mine falls short.

I may never feel a natural affection for some people. That’s okay. You’re not asking for fake smiles or surface-level niceness. You’re asking for sacrificial love — a choice. An obedience. A heart posture that says, “I will love them because You love me. I will love them because You love them.”

It’s humbling, but I think that’s the point. The more I die to myself in these small, daily acts of love, the more I reflect the image of Christ.

So tomorrow, Lord, help me take one step closer to that kind of love.

Help me:

  • Speak kindly when I want to be silent.
  • Stay present when I want to walk away.
  • Pray instead of grumble.
  • Offer grace instead of sarcasm.
  • Remember that loving the unlovable is not weakness — it’s warfare.

Holy Spirit, fill me. I cannot do this on my own. I will burn out quickly without Your help. But with You, I can become more than just a “nice person” — I can become a light in darkness, a living testimony of Your mercy, and a vessel of Your love.

And maybe… just maybe… my love, flawed and growing as it is, might point someone toward You.

Let that be my legacy.
Not perfection.
Not popularity.
Just love.
Love rooted in You.

Living Without Lies: A Christian’s Duty to Speak Truth

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

I can feel the Lord’s presence, and it comforts me more than I can explain. My heart is full, but there’s also this lingering conviction I can’t ignore. God has been pressing something on me all day, through my quiet time this morning, my conversation with a friend over coffee, and even during that awkward moment at work when I laughed at something I knew I shouldn’t have. I think I’m finally understanding: God is calling me to a deeper honesty. Not just the absence of lying… but full, raw, truthfulness—in all things.

I don’t know why it hit so hard this morning. Maybe because I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty honest person. I don’t steal, I don’t tell outrageous lies, I don’t deceive people—at least not on purpose. But honesty isn’t just about not lying, is it?

It’s about integrity. Transparency. Vulnerability.
And I think I’ve been cutting corners with all three.

Ephesians 4:25:
“Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.”

That verse wouldn’t let go of me. It’s not a suggestion. It’s a command. If I’m part of Your body, if I represent Christ, then I don’t have the option to hide behind half-truths, people-pleasing, or pretending I’m okay when I’m not. You’ve commanded me—not recommended—to speak truthfully.

I think about how often I smile and say “I’m good” when I’m not. How I keep things from my family so they won’t worry. Or how I try to clean myself up emotionally before I come to You in prayer, like I need to get my act together first. But that’s not what You want, is it?

You want me real. And raw. Even messy.

Prayer:
God, forgive me for the ways I’ve hidden behind niceties or avoided uncomfortable truths. I want to be honest—with You, with the people I love, and even with myself. Thank You that I don’t have to pretend with You. You already know me inside out (Psalm 139:1-4). Help me walk in truth, even when it costs me pride or comfort. Amen.

I think the hardest thing for me right now is being honest with myself about where I’m still growing. About the areas I try to gloss over or rationalize. Like how I sometimes water down conversations about You when I’m around people who don’t believe. Or when I make excuses for not spending time in the Word because I’m “too tired” when really, I just don’t feel like facing conviction.

But You’ve reminded me over and over again: Honesty is the foundation of relationship.
You can’t have intimacy with someone you’re constantly trying to impress or hide from.

That’s why being honest with GOD matters so much. Because if I can’t be truthful my creator… how could I ever expect to be truthful with others about God’s presence in my life?

I remembered what David wrote in Psalm 51:6:
“Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.”

Truth in the inward parts. That’s deep.
That’s not just honesty in what I say—it’s honesty in how I live. Honesty in my motivations. In my worship. In my repentance.

And the amazing part is… when I bring that truth to You, You don’t reject me. You refine me. You heal me.

Prayer:
Jesus, You are the Truth (John 14:6). Make me like You. Let truth dwell so deeply in me that it transforms how I live and love. Guard my mouth from deceit. Teach me to love truth even when it’s hard. Give me courage to speak it in love to others (Ephesians 4:15), and grace when others speak truth to me. Amen.

I talked to Sarah about this over coffee today. She admitted she’s been struggling too—especially with how hard it is to be honest with non-Christian friends about what we believe. It’s tempting to soften the edges of the gospel to make it more palatable. But You didn’t call us to be popular, Lord. You called us to be faithful.

Proverbs 12:22 says:
“The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.”

I want to be someone You delight in. Not someone who plays it safe or dances around truth to avoid awkwardness.

I think about how Jesus spoke truth everywhere He went. And not just comfortable truth. He called out hypocrisy. He told people to repent. He even challenged His closest friends when they were out of line. And yet, people still followed Him—because He was full of grace and truth (John 1:14). I want that balance in my own life.

I don’t want to be harsh or self-righteous. But I don’t want to be lukewarm or vague either. The world doesn’t need another nice girl who’s too scared to talk about Jesus. The world needs light. The world needs truth. The world needs You.

So Lord, help me to be honest—really honest—about who You are, what You’ve done in my life, and what it means to follow You. Let my testimony be filled with truth, even if it’s messy. Even if it’s awkward. Even if it makes people uncomfortable. Because the truth is the only thing that can set people free (John 8:32).

Prayer:
God, give me holy boldness. Make me brave enough to be honest when I share the gospel. Help me love people enough to tell them the truth, even if it costs me something. Fill my heart with compassion, not compromise. Let my life point to You in truth and love. Amen.

I can’t believe how much God has shown me today. God never stops pursuing my heart. And even when God corrects me, it feels like love. Thank You for being so patient with me Lord. Thank You for caring more about my soul than my comfort.

I know this journey won’t be easy. There will be moments I’ll want to shrink back or stay quiet. But I also know God promised to be with me.

Isaiah 41:10 says:
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

That’s all I need to keep walking in truth.
The Lord will strengthen me.
God helps me.
God holds me up.

So here I am, Lord.
All of me.
The good, the messy, the in-between.

No pretending. No performing.
Just me.
Just truth.
Just Yours.

Final Prayer:
God, thank You for calling me to truth—not to shame me, but to free me. Thank You that honesty leads to healing, intimacy, and growth. Make me a woman of integrity. A woman of Your Word. A woman unafraid of truth because I know who holds it. Use my honesty to glorify You and to point others to the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. In Jesus’ holy name, Amen.

Thank you, Lord.
I love You more than anything.
And today… I love You with honesty.

Eyes of Grace: How Jesus Saw People

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

This has been one of those weeks where everything felt a little off at first—but then Jesus gently rerouted my heart. He has this quiet way of doing that—no condemnation, no shame. Just truth, soaked in love.

I’ve been praying all week on the truth that Jesus never looked down on others. That sentence alone feels like a whole sermon. It’s simple, but it hits so deep. The more I sit with it, the more I realize how often I do the exact opposite. I size people up. I make assumptions. I mentally categorize people based on what I think I know. Jesus didn’t do that. Not once.

When the Pharisees saw “a woman caught in adultery” (John 8:3–11), Jesus saw a daughter. They wanted to stone her. He stooped down, drew in the dirt, and said, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” One by one, the crowd disappeared. And then Jesus looked at her—not down on her—and said, “Neither do I condemn you… go and sin no more.”

That moment is everything.

Jesus didn’t ignore her sin. He simply looked beyond it. He saw her potential. Her future. He saw her heart—maybe fragile, maybe ashamed—but still full of worth. That’s what I want. That vision. That grace.

Lord, give me eyes like Yours. Help me see people the way You do.

There’s a woman at work I’ve silently judged for months. I hate admitting that. She talks a lot. Her laugh is loud. She flirts with the married guy from HR. And every time I see her, something in me stiffens. I think, “She’s such a mess.”

But today… I swear I heard Jesus whisper: “She’s Mine too.”

And suddenly I thought, What if I’m the only person in her life who can reflect Jesus right now? What if she’s aching to be seen for more than the mask she wears every day?

Romans 5:8 keeps coming to mind: “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
Not after we cleaned up. Not after we got our act together. While we were still a mess. Jesus loved us then. He loves us still.

And I felt this gentle nudge in my soul: What if you stopped waiting for people to be lovable and just loved them like I do?

That wrecked me in the best way.

I’ve been asking God to help me understand what it really means to be in Christ. Because if my identity is rooted in Him—not in performance, not in opinions, not in sin or shame—then it changes everything. It changes how I see myself. But more than that, it changes how I see others.

2 Corinthians 5:16-17 says:
“So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view… if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”

Jesus didn’t just look at broken people and see brokenness. He looked at them and saw what could be—not in some idealistic way, but in a deeply spiritual, eternal sense.

  • Where others saw a blind man, Jesus saw someone who would worship with new eyes (John 9).
  • Where others saw a crippled man, Jesus saw someone getting up and walking out of shame (John 5).
  • Where others saw a hated tax collector, Jesus saw a future disciple and gospel writer—Matthew.
  • And Zacchaeus? That “wee little man”? Jesus saw a redeemed heart climbing down a tree into grace.

Jesus, You never looked down on anyone—because You saw what we could become in You.
Help me stop labeling people by their past, their mistakes, or even their current choices. Let me see eternal beings, made in Your image, loved beyond comprehension.

Sometimes I forget that the cross was the greatest act of seeing. Jesus looked at a world full of sin and didn’t say, “They’re not worth it.”
Instead, He said: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

He saw ignorance, not evil. Hurt, not hatred. And still, He chose love.

That makes me think… When I look at someone who’s hurt me or someone I think is “too far gone,” what do I see?

Do I see someone Jesus died for?

Do I see someone who is just as lost as I once was before grace found me?

There’s this prayer I found tucked in my Bible, written in the margin years ago during a small group retreat. It feels relevant again tonight:

“Lord Jesus, give me Your eyes. Let me see the hurting instead of the hardened. Let me hear the cries behind the anger. Let me speak life to dry bones. Let me love beyond what makes sense. In Your name. Amen.”

I’m beginning to realize that when I fail to see others through Jesus’ eyes, it’s usually because I’ve forgotten who I am in Him. If I still think I’m only as valuable as my behavior, my social media, or my productivity—then I’ll judge others by those same shallow standards.

But Jesus flips that. Always.

Colossians 3:12 says:
“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

We are chosen, holy, and dearly loved.
And because of that identity, we are called to love others the same way.

Tomorrow, I’m going to challenge myself.

For one day, I want to see and hear through the eyes and ears of Christ. That’s the challenge from my devotion today. And it scares me a little—because I already know I’ll be convicted. But I also know it will change me.

So here’s what I’m praying before I fall asleep tonight:

Jesus,
You never looked down on anyone—not the outcast, the adulterer, the rebel, the doubter, or even the ones who nailed You to the cross. You saw people, not projects. Souls, not labels.

Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve been quick to judge and slow to love. I confess that I’ve looked down on others to feel better about myself. Strip that pride from me. Break it. Replace it with compassion.

Holy Spirit, tomorrow, give me Your eyes. Let me see the barista, the coworker, the person I usually ignore—all through Your lens of eternal value. Let my words reflect the gentleness of Jesus. Let my heart be quick to forgive and slow to assume.

Help me carry Your presence, not just in my words, but in my eyes, in the way I see people.

Thank You for never looking down on me, even when I was at my lowest.
Thank You for always seeing the version of me I couldn’t see yet.

I love You more than anything, Jesus.
Amen.

(CLICK HERE TO PRAY WITH ME FOR STRENGTH!) Please! I Need Strength Today! After What Happened Today, My Heart is Torn! Everyone’s Heart is Torn! Pray with me!

Tonight I feel both convicted and comforted. Like God is doing something small but permanent in my heart. I want to walk into tomorrow wide-eyed with grace, looking at every person as someone Jesus is madly in love with. Because they are.

And so am I.

He never looked down on me.
How could I look down on anyone else?

— A Daughter Learning to See Like Jesus

Divine Affection: The Holiness of God’s Love

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

I don’t even know how to begin, except to say thank You. Thank You God for Your love.

Thank You God that Your love is not like human love—fleeting, conditional, broken—but that it is holy, steadfast, unshakable, and pure. I’ve been meditating all day on Isaiah 54:10:

“The mountains and the hills may crumble, but My love for you will never end…so says the LORD who loves you.” — Isaiah 54:10 (GNT)

That verse has wrapped around my heart like a blanket. Honestly, I needed it today. I’ve been feeling really stretched in some areas of my life—spiritually, emotionally, and even physically—and I found myself questioning some things. Not questioning You, Lord, but questioning if I’m walking right, if I’m missing something. Sometimes I wonder why things are so hard when I’m trying so hard to follow You.

But You reminded me today that Your love is holy love.

It’s not the kind of love that always feels soft or comfortable. Sometimes it burns. Sometimes it breaks before it builds. Sometimes it wounds before it heals. I’m slowly realizing that holy love doesn’t just comfort—it corrects. It doesn’t just protect—it purifies.

And I guess that’s what You’ve been doing in me lately: purifying. You’re removing idols I didn’t know I had. You’re calling out insecurities that I’ve buried under productivity. You’re showing me that surrender isn’t a one-time prayer but a daily sacrifice. And through all of it, I can feel Your holy love—strong, fierce, yet full of mercy.

“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” — Psalm 103:13-14 (NIV)

I love that verse so much. I cried when I read it earlier. Sometimes I think I have to be strong for You, like I need to show You how committed I am by pushing through on my own. But You know I’m dust. You’re not asking me to be strong—you’re asking me to be surrendered.

Even when You allow trials—especially when You do—You’re not being cruel. You’re being holy. Your love doesn’t overlook the cancer of sin in me. You fight it, even when I cling to it. And it hurts, Lord. It hurts when You pull things away that I once found identity or comfort in. But I trust You. I trust that Your discipline is not punishment—it’s love.

“The Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as his child.” — Hebrews 12:6 (NLT)

I read that and I just paused. I looked at my life and said, “Wow, God—you really must love me.” Because You haven’t let me go. Even when I drift. Even when I numb myself with distractions or withdraw because I’m tired. You keep pursuing me. And You keep pruning me.

I heard a sermon the other day that said: “Love that doesn’t confront sin isn’t love—it’s tolerance.” And I know now that You don’t tolerate me, You treasure me. And that’s why You won’t let sin take root in me. You are holy, and Your love is holy too. You love me too much to let me be less than who You created me to be.

And I’m beginning to see that trials are not punishment—they’re invitations. Invitations into deeper trust, deeper dependency, deeper intimacy with You.

“Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.” — Lamentations 3:32-33 (NIV)

That verse undoes me. You don’t delight in my pain. You’re not standing far off watching me struggle. You’re here. You’re near. You suffer with me. You are Emmanuel, God with me, even in the storm. Maybe especially in the storm.

It’s in the furnace that You refine. It’s in the fire that You reveal. It’s in the crushing that You produce oil. And I don’t want to resist the process anymore. I want to embrace it—even if I don’t understand it fully—because I know You. And I trust Your heart more than I fear the heat.

“The Lord binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds he inflicted.” — Isaiah 30:26 (NIV)

That is such a strange verse when I first think about it—You inflict wounds, yet You are also the one who heals them. But I get it now. You’re not causing pain for pain’s sake. You’re a surgeon, not a sadist. You wound to remove infection. You break to reset what was broken in the wrong way. You crush to restore.

Your love is fierce, Father. But it is good. It is not reckless—it is righteous. It is not wild—it is wise. It is not passive—it is powerful. It doesn’t leave me as I am, and for that, I am forever grateful.

I used to want a love that just made me feel safe. Now, I want a love that makes me holy.

“Real love seeks the well-being of the loved one. It warns to prevent more harm. It disciplines to create more growth.”

That’s You. That’s what You’ve been doing all along. And even though it’s been hard, I see the fruit. I see how You’re growing my patience, my humility, my prayer life. I see how You’ve used disappointments to draw me closer to You. I see how You’ve used closed doors to redirect me toward better ones. You’re not being cruel—you’re being kind.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” — James 1:17 (CSB)

You don’t change. Not with my moods, not with my mistakes, not with my questions. Your love stays constant when everything else shifts. Even when the world is loud and my own heart is confused, You remain. And Your love remains. And it’s holy. And it’s healing me.

A Prayer of Response:

Heavenly Father,

Thank You that Your love for me never ends. Thank You that it’s not based on my performance but on Your perfect nature. Thank You that when I fall short, You don’t walk away. Instead, You move closer. Thank You for the trials that lead me back to Your heart. Thank You for the pruning that prepares me for fruitfulness. Thank You that Your love confronts, corrects, and restores.

Lord, help me to trust You in the middle of refinement. When it hurts, remind me that You are near. When I’m tempted to believe that You are distant or angry, whisper again the truth that You are holy, and so is Your love. Help me to welcome Your discipline, knowing it is evidence that I am Your daughter.

Make me more like Jesus. Shape me with Your holy love. I surrender again tonight. Take everything that is not of You, and replace it with truth, with grace, and with fire.

And even if the mountains crumble, I will rest in the truth that Your love for me will never end.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Is Heaven Listening? The Power of Prayer is Real

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

Tonight, my heart feels so full and so fragile all at once. The world outside my window is quiet—just the soft hum of the fan and the occasional chirp of a cricket. But inside me, it’s anything but quiet. I feel stirred. Not anxious exactly, just… aware. Aware that I need God more than ever, and somehow, even when I whisper the tiniest prayer, I know—really know—that Heaven is listening.

But some days I do wonder. I’m not proud of that, but it’s honest. Is Heaven listening? When my voice cracks under the weight of what I can’t even put into words, is God really hearing me? And more than that—does He care?

Tonight, I opened up to Psalm 34:17:

“The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles.”

I held onto that verse like it was oxygen. Because today I cried—not out loud, but in that quiet way where you hold your breath so no one hears, but your soul is screaming. I didn’t have the strength to pray long or with eloquence. All I could manage was: “Jesus, I need You.”

And that was enough.
It had to be enough.

Lately, prayer has felt less like a ritual and more like my lifeline. It’s not about pretty words anymore. I don’t even bother with formalities. I talk to Him like I’d talk to my best friend. Because He is.

He’s the only one who’s been with me through everything—the bad breakups, the confusion after college, the loneliness I didn’t expect at this age. Everyone told me life would feel more settled by 24, but honestly? It just feels like more questions, more pressure, more waiting.

But prayer reminds me I’m not waiting alone.

A Little Prayer Tonight:

Jesus, thank You for listening even when my words are few. Thank You for not being distant, even when I feel far away. Draw me back to You tonight. Remind me that my prayers are not in vain and that You’re doing something in the silence—even when I can’t see it. Amen.

I remember something my grandma used to say: “You don’t always need to hear from Heaven to know that Heaven hears you.” I never understood that until now. I think about the times I’ve prayed for things that didn’t happen the way I wanted—but somehow, it worked out better later. Maybe unanswered prayers are God’s mercy in disguise.

1 John 5:14 brings me comfort, especially on days like this:

“This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us.”

I keep asking for clarity—about my future, about my purpose, about whether I’m doing this life right. But maybe what I need more is courage. The courage to keep praying even when the answers feel far away.

Earlier today, I journaled this prayer (before I even opened my Bible):

Lord, I don’t want to treat prayer like a last resort. I want it to be my first move. Even when I don’t see immediate results, remind me that You’re always working behind the scenes. Let me trust the process and trust Your heart, even when Your hand feels hidden.

When I think about prayer, I don’t just think about asking. I think about connecting. Like, deep soul-to-God connection. And that changes everything. It’s not about wish lists—it’s about presence. His presence. And when I feel that, even just a little, I’m okay again.

I think of Philippians 4:6-7 so often:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

That verse has literally carried me through panic attacks. I read it out loud when my heart races, and it’s like the Word itself becomes a balm over my chaos. I still struggle with fear sometimes, but prayer has become my shelter.

Tonight’s final prayer:

Abba, You are my refuge. When everything feels uncertain, Your love remains. Help me to not just pray out of desperation, but out of devotion. Remind me that every whispered prayer reaches You. That not one word falls to the ground. That You’re near. I surrender my need to understand, and I choose to trust that You are good, always. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

So, is Heaven listening?

Yes. I believe that with every fiber of my being—even on the days when I don’t feel it. Faith isn’t about always feeling—it’s about choosing to believe, even in the silence.

And tonight, I choose to believe. I choose to believe that the Power of Prayer is real. That my small, trembling voice matters to a big, powerful God. That my tears don’t go unnoticed. That even now—right now—Heaven is not just listening, but leaning in.

Goodnight, Jesus. I love You.
Thank You for loving me first.
More than anything else in this world, I belong to You.

God’s Guardrails Are Not Just a List: How the 10 Commandments Keep Me Grounded

Posted on by thechristiantechnerd

More than ever before I feel God’s presence like a warm light wrapping around my soul—just comforting enough to remind me I’m not alone. I’ve been thinking deeply about something a new friend said at small group over the weekend: “God’s guardrails are more than just a list.” How true that is! The Ten Commandments—they’re not rules meant to chain me; they’re loving boundaries from a Father who wants the best for me.

When I first encountered the Ten Commandments as a kid, I thought of them as a little pile of “thou shalt nots,” like rules that threatened punishment if broken. But over the last few years—especially now at 24—I’m discovering they’re liberating guardrails. Ironically, these boundaries don’t limit me; they protect me. They keep me grounded in truth, love, and purpose.

📖 “For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” —2 Timothy 1:7. This tells me He didn’t give those commandments to scare me. He gave them so I could walk in confidence, rooted in His love, free from fear of “messing up.”

💕 Commandment by Commandment: How They Guide Me

  1. “You shall have no other gods before me.”
    — It’s a daily reminder that when I idolize my career ambitions, relationships, or even comfort, I’m drifting away from Him. I pray: “Lord, You alone are worthy of my highest devotion. Teach me to keep You at the center.”
  2. “You shall not make for yourself a carved image…”
    — In this age of comparison on Instagram and TikTok, it’s easy to idolize trends, aesthetic, or image. I whisper: “Help me focus on who I am in You, not what I look like to others.”
  3. “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.”
    — I catch myself sometimes saying God’s name in frustration. I repent: “Father, forgive my careless words. Let my tongue speak life and honor.”
  4. “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.”
    — Oh, how I struggle with rest! My heart races at the thought of doing nothing. But Sabbath reminds me that rest is holy and necessary. “God, grant me peace in stillness and remind me You are enough.”
  5. “Honor your father and your mother.”
    — This one has softened me. My parents have taught me so much about faith and grace. I pray: “Thank You for them. Help me honor them in word, deed, and heart.”
  6. “You shall not murder.”
    — It’s about more than physical harm—it’s about words. I’ve let frustration boil into bitterness. “Lord, guard my heart and my words; let me speak life, forgiveness, and grace.”
  7. “You shall not commit adultery.”
    — My future spouse deserves holiness. I guard my eyes, my thoughts, my purity—heart, mind, and body. “Keep my mind pure and my heart faithful, Lord.”
  8. “You shall not steal.”
    — It’s more than property—what about time, attention, honor? Do I “steal” someone’s right to feel seen? “Give me a generous heart, not a selfish one.”
  9. “You shall not bear false witness.”
    — Gossip is insidious. “Help me speak truth in love and defend those who can’t defend themselves.”
  10. “You shall not covet.”
    — That ache in my chest when I scroll and feel less-than? That’s covetousness. “Lord, cultivate contentment in me. Teach me to delight in Your provision.”

🌺 Guardrails or Gateways?

This morning, I was running late and my heart thundered in my chest—fear, worry, frustration. My to-do list rolled on. And then I caught the whisper: “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10). In that moment I realized, the guardrails aren’t barriers; they’re gateways. The guardrails offer a route back to Him when I’ve drifted into chaos. They invite me into shelter.

When I honor the Sabbath, I actually find joy in rest. When I guard my speech, I build up others. These commandments protect me from self-destruction and evil influences.

🙏 Prayer of the Heart

Heavenly Father,
I thank You that You are not distant or cold. You are a loving Father who set these commandments to guide my heart, not condemn it. When I was younger, I saw them as burdens. Now, I’m seeing them through the lens of redemption and transformation. Please:

  • Root me in Your love and not in fear.
  • Illuminate the times I drift without realizing it.
  • Guard my heart from idols—money, approval, even my own agenda.
  • Help me offer rest to my soul and mercy to others.
  • Shape my speech to be truth-laden and life-giving.
  • Give me contentment so covetousness has no foothold.

Thank You that Jesus fulfilled the law and that in Him, I don’t walk in condemnation. Instead, I walk in grace. When I fail, I remember “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us…” (1 John 1:9).

✨ Real-Life Glimmers

This week, I saw the power of the commandments in real life.

  • At work, when gossip bubbled up, I chose to change the subject. My coworker thanked me later—it felt like a mini-mission moment.
  • In a friendship, I offered a listening ear rather than advice. Took the commandment against taking from someone else’s time personally.
  • Internally, I noticed less comparison when I devoted ten minutes of prayer each morning. It’s subtle, but oh, so sweet.

It’s like each commandment is a little lamp lighting my path. They’re not legal chains—they’re kind directions that help me walk with clarity.

💞 My Prayer for You

If you’re reading this and wondering, “Do I really need these ancient rules?” I’d say yes—because they’re not ancient limits, but divine love letters. In a world that tells us to define our own truths, the commandments are like a Compass pointing us back to our Creator.

I pray that you find freedom in each guardrail:

  • Let the first two commandments remind you who you are in Christ and who God is—evoking awe, worship, and alignment.
  • Let the middle commandments shape your rhythms: rest in Him and honor family.
  • Let the last ones guide your ethics: how you speak, act, love, desire.

💌 Nighttime Prayer

Lord Jesus, You are the fulfillment of the law. At night, when the world quiets down, You whisper rest to my soul. Help me to rest not from work but in You. Remind me that I am not defined by my performance or perfection. You see me, You love me—even when I fall short. Thank You for sending Your Spirit to convict, guide, and empower me. May I live tomorrow tethered to Your truth. No cultural trend, no fear, no strife can unmoor me when You are my anchor.

“The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun‑scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well‑watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” —Isaiah 58:11

With all that I am and all that I will become, I place my trust in You. I want Your commandments to be written on my heart (Jeremiah 31:33), not out of obligation, but out of love.

Amen.

🌙 Final Thought

As a 24-year-old who stumbles, dreams, hopes, and seeks, the Ten Commandments aren’t obsolete—they’re so relevant. They guard the digital spaces where I dwell, the relationships I treasure, and the dreams I chase. They’re not just a list—they’re a lifeline.

So tonight, I tuck into bed, whispering, “Goodnight, Lord. Thank You for Your guardrails. Keep me grounded—and free—in You.” And I rest with that sweet sense of being deeply, truly, unconditionally loved.