Be A Lighthouse

There’s a lot of noise out there.  

Especially when it comes to politics, religion, fitness, masculinity, parenting, and purpose.  

Everyone’s shouting across the digital void—telling you how to think, eat, raise your kids, believe, act, be a man, be a woman...  

And honestly? I’ve got a pretty rigid code myself.  

I believe in what I live. I hold non-negotiable values.  

I’m not passive about any of this.  

But I’m not here to be another voice in the echo chamber.  

I don’t follow mainstream religion.  

I don’t engage in political bandwagons.  

And I don’t hate people for seeing things differently.  

I’ve been told I’m going to hell for what I believe in.  

I’ve been told I’m wrong—over and over—just because what I stand for doesn’t fit the mold of what’s popular or widely accepted.  

But what most don’t realize is they’re clinging to a version of truth they’ve never questioned—because a book says so, or because everyone around them agrees with it.  

But faith is faith.  

It’s belief in the unseen.  

It’s trusting what you feel in your soul.  

And if someone finds that faith in a different story than yours— what really makes it less valid?

Because at the end of the day, all belief is a story we choose to live by.  

So why is yours the only one that’s right?

What’s wild is—when people feel forced to believe something, they tend to rebel.  

Hate never leads to transformation.  

Condemnation doesn’t invite reflection.  

You don’t change someone’s heart by telling them they’re going to burn in hell.  

You don’t win someone over by saying their vote makes them worthless.  

You don’t inspire change by screaming that their food choices will kill them.  

It’s astounding, really. How arrogant we’ve become in the name of being “right.”  

And here’s what’s funny—people sometimes get uncomfortable when I say I’ve connected deeply with someone whose values differ from mine.  

They say it’s wrong. That it’s evil. That you can’t tolerate it.

But coming from someone who doesn’t identify as Christian,  

I’ll say this: I think Christ is actually a perfect example.  

From what I understand, he was constantly condemned.  

Misunderstood. Mocked.  

Eventually crucified.  

And yet, all he did was share his truth, love people, and welcome those who were cast out.  

He didn’t yell down people’s throats.  

He didn’t lead by condemnation.  

He broke bread with outcasts, healed the hurting, and lived his values out loud.  

And through that, people followed. Not because he forced them. But because he lived something worth following.

I’m not saying I’m him.  

That’s not the point.  

The irony is that many who claim to follow him seem to forget that this was how he moved through the world.  

That truth applies to all of us—  

no matter what faith or values you hold.

So yes, I’ll share my opinions.  

I’ll speak my truth.  

But not to argue.  

Not to shame.  

Not to hate.  

Because if you truly believe in what you stand for, why does it need to be shouted at someone’s face? Why must it be laced with venom?

Just because we’re on different frequencies doesn’t mean I wish you harm.  

It just means I won’t align with you.  

I can still respect you.  

Respect doesn’t require agreement.  

It requires integrity.

The truth is—people don’t see life through your eyes.  

They see it through theirs, shaped by a thousand moments you never lived.  

Pain.  

Upbringing.  

Culture.  

Struggle.  

Victory.  

Loss.  

So even if I believe, deep in my soul, that I’m right—it’s not my job to yell it at you.  

Because conviction doesn’t need a megaphone. It needs consistency.  

I’ll live what I believe.  

I’ll walk the path.  

And maybe someone sees truth in that—not because I argued, but because I embodied it.  

And if they don’t? That’s okay too. My direction doesn’t depend on their approval.

You can hate me for who I am.  

You can talk behind my back or shout it in my face.  

But I’ll still wake up and walk forward.  

Because your opinion doesn’t dictate my truth.

And honestly? I think we’d connect a whole lot more if we stopped being so rattled by each other’s thoughts.  

Sometimes your so-called enemy shares more with you than your so-called friend.  

But you’ll never see it if you’re too busy trying to change them instead of listening.

So no, I’m not here to be a tugboat.  

I’m a lighthouse.  

I’ll shine.  

I’ll hold my ground.  

And if someone finds guidance in that? Good.  

If not?

I’ll still be standing.