Today’s World
Some mornings, I sit by the window—Pibb in hand—and just watch the world spin faster than ever. Everyone’s rushing somewhere, but I can’t tell if anyone really knows where they’re going. I see the headlines, the outrage, the chaos, and I can’t help but think: When did we lose our sense of calm? When did we forget how to be kind?
There was a time when disagreements didn’t mean disrespect. We could sit around a kitchen table, share a meal, and still love each other even if we voted differently or worshiped differently. Today, we draw battle lines where there used to be dinner conversations. We’ve turned opinions into weapons and empathy into weakness. It’s exhausting.
We live in a world that tells us we’re always right—because our newsfeed, our algorithm, and our circle all agree with us. It’s an echo chamber that rewards pride and punishes humility. Truth has become something we customize to fit our preferences, like a playlist. And the result is a world full of noise but starving for wisdom.
I miss the world where people took time to think before they spoke, where “please” and “thank you” weren’t outdated, and where faith meant something more than a bumper sticker or a social media bio. These days, too many people claim faith but live with fear, judgment, and resentment. We weaponize Scripture when it should be softening our hearts. We shout about Jesus’ name without walking in His example.
But even in this mess of noise and division, I still see glimpses of good. A stranger holding a door for an elderly man. A teacher who spends her own money so her students can have what they need. A police officer stopping to toss a football with kids in the street. Those moments still exist—they just don’t make the evening news. Maybe that’s part of the problem: we’ve forgotten that hope rarely shouts; it usually whispers.
Maybe what we need isn’t a revolution of policies, but a revival of perspective. We’ve let bitterness become the default emotion of society, and it’s poisoning the well. Every headline tells us what’s wrong. Every post reminds us who we should be angry at. But rarely does anything remind us what’s right—that kindness still matters, that honesty still counts, and that grace still heals.
Some people say, “That’s just the world now.” But I don’t buy it. The world doesn’t decide who we are—we do. We decide whether to listen before speaking. We decide whether to forgive instead of retaliate. We decide whether to lift someone up or tear them down. That’s not politics or trends; that’s character.
Faith, at its best, isn’t about winning arguments. It’s about winning hearts through love. Jesus didn’t spend His time shouting at the sinners—He sat with them. He listened. He loved. Maybe if we did more of that, the world wouldn’t feel so divided, and our own hearts might feel a little less heavy.
I’ll be honest: sometimes I look at today’s world and feel disheartened. But then I remember—God isn’t done with us yet. The story of humanity is full of broken chapters, and still, grace keeps writing new pages. Maybe what we’re living through right now isn’t the end, but the shaking that wakes us up. Maybe it’s the reminder that light shines brightest when the night is darkest.
So here’s my challenge—for you, for me, for anyone reading this: slow down. Step back. Look around. When the world screams “choose sides,” choose compassion. When everyone else rushes to judge, choose to understand. When you’re tempted to react in anger, take a breath and respond in grace.
Because we can’t fix the world all at once—but we can each make our corner of it a little better. And when enough corners shine, the light spreads.
Maybe that’s the real secret: the world changes one perspective at a time.
