KINGDOM TITBITS

We live in a world that worships at the altar of "more": more money. More possessions. More experiences. More likes. More upgrades. Every commercial preaches the same sermon: "You are not enough. You do not have enough. But if you buy this, earn that, or achieve more, then you will finally be satisfied." This is not just marketing. It is a form of idolatry. A cult with its own priests. Temples. And promises of salvation. The supermarket serves as its cathedral. The smartphone acts as its pulpit. Credit cards are its sacraments. And debt is the bondage that keeps its worshippers enslaved. Let's call it what it is: consumerism is not neutral. It is a ravening god. Jesus knew this long before Amazon Prime was ever conceived. He stated plainly: "No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate one and love the other, or you will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money" (Matthew 6:24). Yet many of us try to balance bo...

We live in a world obsessed with work. We measure people by what they do rather than who they are. We introduce ourselves by our job titles. We hustle, grind, perform, and produce. Our calendars are packed. Our inboxes overflow. Our to-do lists seem endless. Work has become more than just a part of life. It has become our entire life. If we're honest, many of us secretly enjoy this. Busyness makes us feel important, and being in demand makes us feel valuable. Productivity has become our drug of choice. We know how to push through exhaustion with another cup of coffee, how to schedule back-to-back meetings until we collapse, and how to make busyness sound virtuous. But here's the harsh truth: when work is divorced from worship, it crushes us. The Idol of Labour: When Good Things Become god Things Scripture begins with a picture of work. God creating. Work was never meant to be a curse. Adam and Eve were placed in the garden "to work it and take care of it" (Genesis 2:1...

  "For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." — Matthew 6:14–15 (NKJV) You've been hurt. Maybe it was a betrayal that knocked the wind out of you. A word meant to wound, and it did. A friend who vanished when you needed them most. You carry it like a stone in your chest, don't you? Heavy. Draining. And here's the truth, the hard, uncomfortable truth: it won't leave until you do something radical.  You forgive. Now, before you close this tab and walk away, hear me out. Forgiveness doesn't mean weakness. It's strength. It doesn't mean forgetting. It's remembering without being controlled by the memory. It doesn't mean condoning what they did. It's releasing what they did to you. And here's what you need to understand: it's not about them. It's about you. Your freedom. Your peace. Your rac...

We live in an age where silence has become unbearable. The moment it arrives, we panic. In the car, in the bathroom, in the thirty seconds between putting down your phone and picking it back up. We reach for our devices. We turn on the TV. We put on background music. Quiet makes us twitch. Stillness makes us itch. So we fill every crack and crevice of our souls with noise: music, podcasts, chatter, scrolling, alerts, the endless hum of digital stimulation. But this is tragic: in drowning out the silence, we've also drowned out the voice of God. We've become people who cannot bear to be alone with our own thoughts, let alone alone with the Almighty. And in our frantic flight from quiet, we've lost something essential. Something we didn't even know we needed until it was gone. The God Who Whispers The prophet Elijah learned something crucial. After years of spectacular ministry, he found himself exhausted. Depressed. Hiding in a cave. He had called down fire from heaven. ...

Dwell on the image of a luxury liner. Gleaming brass and polished wood. The music whispering out of the ballroom as passengers dance and dine oblivious to the water seeping in around the hull below.  That's our world. Not tomorrow's world. Not some far-off apocalyptic future, but the world you woke up in this morning.The Bible doesn't mince words about this. In Hebrews 12:26-27, we find an astonishing promise:  "At t time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, 'Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.' The words 'once more' indicate the removing of what can be shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain." Reread that. God isn't threatening to shake things. He's promising to shake them. And not just the earth this time, but the heavens too. Everything built from human imagination, will, and gathered might will be subjected to this sacred earthquake. What can be shaken will be sh...