👣 Carried By Christ 👣

One criticism I often hear is, "Why does God allow people to commit evil?" But when Scripture describes God bringing judgment on persistent human wickedness (such as the Flood, the plagues of Egypt, or other acts of judgment), another criticism is, "God is evil for judging people."

I'm specifically talking about human moral evil, not things like disease or natural disasters.

How do you manage the inevitable distractions and constant thinking in order to "be still" and hear God?

Every time I pray (which in and of itself is difficult because I'm trying to praise Him and tell Him what's on my heart more than just "I/someone else needs XYZ, please do it"), I try to sit there in silence to see if He replies back. Instead, I'm constantly fighting my executive dysfunction because I hate silence (mainly because I don't want to be left alone with my thoughts).

It's really hard to listen for that "still, small voice" when all my brain wants to do is tell me, "Okay, onto the next thing..." 😮‍💨

I know the Holy Spirit "translates utterances that cannot be said," but on top of feeling like I don't pray "as I ought," I sometimes feel like I'm making this relationship one-sided and the Holy Spirit is doing all the work to get my words to the Father.

I've been reading devotionals about prayer and listening for God, but I don't know if it's working. I know God sees me trying. I'm just spiritually worn out from fighting myself (or rather, fighting my wiring).

I'm tired of praying, "I'm sorry I don't know what to pray," or "I'm sorry, Lord, I tried to listen for like 30 seconds, but I can't focus anymore." 😞

Even though I know He understands, I still feel bad and sometimes feel like a bad Christian. It's a miracle that I can pay attention long enough to pray once a day, let alone be in constant prayer like we're told to do.

I'm already always praying for help with chronic fatigue, chronic pain, and executive dysfunction. I want to tell God other things besides all that.

I know I'm trying, but sometimes it feels like I'm never doing enough. I am told I have a relationship with God, but if I'm not actively giving Him my time, how is that possible?

I already struggle with initiating contact with people in my life, and now apparently the same applies with the God of the universe. That's just incredibly sad.

At conception. At birth. At ten. At fifty. At eighty.

There is no moment where we stop being “just cells” and suddenly become worthy of protection. We only become more complex. More organized. More miraculous. So when pregnancy is reduced to “it’s just a clump of cells,” I have to ask: when did cells stop being sacred?

Because the moment someone is pregnant, society quietly admits something important. Don’t drink alcohol. Don’t do drugs. Don’t take certain medications. Don’t eat certain foods. Take prenatal vitamins. Change your habits. Change your body. Change your life.

Why? If nothing meaningful exists yet — if there is truly nothing there — then none of this should matter. But it does matter. Everyone knows it does.

You don’t get to say “there’s nothing there” while also admitting it can be harmed. You don’t get to say “my body, my choice” while enforcing rules that exist solely to protect someone else.

That’s the hypocrisy no one wants to sit with. “My body, my choice” cannot mean absolute autonomy once another life is present — because absolute autonomy ends the moment responsibility begins. And pregnancy is responsibility from the very start, whether people like that fact or not.

Pregnancy is not a punishment. It is not an inconvenience.It is not a glitch in bodily autonomy. It is the natural consequence of an act capable of creating life.

If people choose sex carelessly and then resent the life that results, that resentment does not erase responsibility; it only reveals a refusal to accept it. The outcome is not society’s fault, not biology’s fault, and certainly not the child’s fault.

Ending a life does not undo the choice that led there. It only adds destruction on top of it. Calling that “freedom” or “choice” doesn’t cleanse it of moral weight; it just hides it behind softer language.

And yes — there are tragic, dire medical circumstances. Yes — there are emergencies where loss is unavoidable. That is not what I am talking about. What I am talking about is how casually destruction is justified instead of mourned.

If the issue is not wanting to parent, then parenting is not the only option. Adoption exists. Safe-haven laws exist. Even embryo adoption exists before pregnancy begins.

The absence of a desire to raise a child does not erase the child’s right to live. It simply means responsibility can take a different form.

Consider miscarriages. If what is lost was never a life, then why do miscarriages devastate people so deeply? Why does chronic alcoholism increase miscarriage risk? Why do doctors warn so urgently against behaviors that can cause loss very early on, long before any arbitrary line where some decide life suddenly “counts”? If something can be lost, harmed, or destroyed, then something meaningful was there to lose.

And rape must be addressed honestly—not avoided. Rape is an act of violence. The child conceived is not. The embryo, fetus, baby — whatever term is used — did not commit the crime. The person who assaulted did. Transferring punishment onto the most innocent party does not heal trauma; it multiplies harm.

I understand not wanting a living reminder of violence. That pain is real. But pain does not turn innocence into guilt. If someone is capable — emotionally, mentally, financially, circumstantially — why is the response erasure instead of transformation?

We celebrate unplanned children conceived through consensual sex all the time. We call them blessings. We love them fiercely. Why does the moral value of a child suddenly change based on the circumstances of conception?

No child asks to exist. That is true of every human being who has ever lived. The question is not whether the situation was wanted. The question is what we do when life appears anyway.

And this is where “vessel” matters. Mary is often brought up here — not only because I’m Christian, but because she illustrates a truth that applies to all pregnancy. A vessel is not disposable. A vessel is not degraded. A vessel is honored because of what it carries.

And a vessel is not an object. Carrying a life does not diminish the pregnant person — it amplifies their importance. It underscores their dignity, their strength, and the gravity of what they are entrusted with.

Pregnancy does not reduce someone to an object, despite what misogynists claim. It does the opposite: it reveals just how irreplaceable and vital the pregnant person truly is.

And the intimacy that leads to pregnancy is not impure or meaningless by default. An act capable of creating life carries inherent gravity. Infertility, medical realities, or not wanting children do not erase the nature of that act — they only change the outcome.

Pregnancy is not a punishment. It is not an inconvenience. It is not a mistake to be “undone.” It is cells doing what cells have always done: reaching for life.

And honestly? It’s wild because these parents treat the truth like it’s somehow dangerous, while manipulating their kids’ imagination and calling it “innocence.” That’s not innocence — that’s conditioning. Honesty isn’t the threat… the lie they’re scrambling to maintain is.

Before anyone tries to twist this: This isn’t even about my belief in God or religion. It’s just hilariously convenient — and a little ironic — that the same people who roll their eyes at faith will go to war to protect a fictional man who lives in the North Pole. Santa isn’t even in the same realm of comparison. As far as I know, kids don’t usually break down later in life over “God not being real” the way they do when Santa falls apart.

If you raise children with God properly, they grow up seeing His proof in their lives — not because of strict rules or fear tactics (which is bad parenting). But when I realized I was being lied to about Santa? My dad acted disappointed, like giving me presents suddenly lost its meaning because the fake guy didn’t get the credit anymore. And yet both he and my stepmom kept writing “Santa” on my gifts well into my teenage years… as if I didn’t know. 🙄

What really gets me, though, is the double standard. The same people who think it's “weird” or “brainwashing” for Christians to teach their kids about God — a God who loves, who comforts, who exists outside any fictional script — are the ones who will devote years to maintaining the myth of a man in a red suit who lives in the North Pole, slides down chimneys, judges kids by behavior, and “watches them while they sleep.”

You’re uncomfortable with a God in heaven… but totally fine teaching your child about a magical stalker-elf CEO in the Arctic? C’mon. If we’re calling things laughable, at least be consistent.

It’s the same energy as believing in eternal hellfire or an immortal soul — ideas that aren’t even biblical — but somehow truth is the thing people want to shield their kids from. Truth is simple. Lies… those are exhausting.

And here’s the real kicker: children aren’t stupid. They remember who told them the truth. They also remember who lied “for fun” or “for their innocence.” And when they finally realize the Santa story was never real, some of them carry that sting: If you lied about this, what else would you lie about?

Watching parents get angry at strangers online for not maintaining their illusion — as if the whole world is required to tiptoe around their personal fantasy — is honestly baffling.

Just teach your kids kindness. Teach them gratitude. Teach them not to beg for presents from their parents. Give them real wonder — the kind rooted in truth, not deception.

Because a God who loves me is far less “laughable” than a fictional man who keeps a behavioral surveillance list on minors.

People underestimate cats so easily, but the cognitive leaps animals make — especially when given tools to communicate — look shockingly similar to early human development.

And that got me thinking about toddlers. Because toddler intelligence and cat intelligence overlap in surprising ways:

• rapid learning

• symbol processing

• emotional labeling

• pattern recognition

• simple time concepts

• object permanence

• cause → effect linking

But toddlers run all of this at blistering speed. Their brains create new neural pathways constantly. They adapt instantly. They absorb language like it’s nothing. They learn the entire world all at once. And then it hit me:

What if the toddler brain is actually the closest glimpse we have of how God originally designed humans to function? What if humanity was meant to learn, adapt, grow, and create at toddler-level neuroplasticity for our entire lives?

Before sin, nothing decayed. Nothing slowed down. Nothing grew rigid. Nothing lost flexibility. Nothing dulled with age.

So what if the way adults learn now — the slowing, the difficulty, the mental fatigue — isn’t natural at all? What if sin didn’t just break the body… but also stunted the mind?

Maybe:

• The loss of curiosity

• The struggle to adapt

• The mental exhaustion

• The rigidity that comes with age

• The shrinking of creativity

…are not signs of evolution — but scars from a world that no longer matches the beings God designed.

But when Adam and Eve chose to disobey God, they made the bed… and all of humanity had to lie in it. That choice opened the door to death itself.

It’s like dropping a box of mousetraps across the floor. The room didn’t change. The floor didn’t change. But now every step carries risk.

And from that moment on, the human brain learned:

• avoid danger

• avoid pain

• avoid loss

• avoid death

• stay alive at all costs

Not because God designed us to run,

but because sin fractured the world we were created for. Evolutionists look at those fear responses and say,

“This is our ancient animal brain.”

But it’s not evolution — it’s adaptation to a broken reality. A perfect creation seen through cracked glass.

Sin didn’t give us instincts. Sin forced instinct to become our backup system. Because in a world filled with traps,

even the most careful person will get a toe snapped eventually.

Immortality is not ours anymore —

only God is naturally immortal. Every one of us now lives in a world that no longer fits the perfection we were made for.