Sep 15
Tomorrow might come for you… or it might not. The sunrise may shine upon you, alive… or dead… lying in a coffin. “Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth” (Proverbs 27:1). And yet… you let pride consume you. You let it fester in the corners of your heart, turning warmth into coldness, turning love into suspicion. You let bitterness grow like a poison, dripping into every thought, every action, every word you refuse to speak. You let hatred take root, as if Satan himself had planted it there, whispering in your ear, twisting your vision until you can no longer see the light God placed before you.
Do you not see it? The hatred you nurture—it does not just consume what is around you, it devours you first. It clouds your judgment, blinds your soul, and turns the hands that reach for you into shadows you cannot recognize. Every smile you ignore, every apology you refuse, every moment you withhold love—it all strengthens him. Satan thrives in your silence, your pride, your wrath. He dances in the shadows of your anger, in the quiet moments when no one watches, whispering lies, poisoning trust, twisting hearts against each other. He destroys what God carefully built. Bridges of trust, foundations of love, bonds meant to endure—gone. Crumbling in your hands.
Every grievance held like a weapon, every word swallowed like poison, every thought clinging to bitterness—it all accumulates. And for what? A fragile illusion of power? A shield of pride that protects nothing but your own isolation? You forget that tomorrow is not promised. The sun may rise, or it may not. And if it doesn’t… what will you leave behind? Who will mourn you, who will remember you, who will still dare to hope that you might have been different if only you had chosen love instead of hate?
And yet… even now, even after everything, there is still time. Today still stretches before you, fragile, fleeting, heavy with possibility. But it requires humility. It requires courage. It requires you to fight the darkness that has made a home in your soul before it consumes all light within you. Every second you waste in anger, every heartbeat filled with resentment, brings you closer to a cold, empty end, and yet you pretend you have all the time in the world.
Look around you. See what has been broken. See what you have cast aside. Do you feel the weight of it—the emptiness, the silence, the grief of those you have pushed away? Do you feel the shadow that grows in your chest, the shadow that whispers that this pain is all you deserve? That shadow is him. That shadow is Satan, feeding on what was meant to be holy, sacred, and eternal. And he will not stop until you hand over the rest willingly.
Tomorrow is not promised. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone. Death does not wait, fate does not negotiate, and time does not linger. And yet… here we are. Today still exists. Today still begs for redemption. Today still waits for your choice. Will you let it pass in silence, in bitterness, in pride? Or will you remember that what God built cannot be destroyed unless you surrender it willingly?
The hands that could have held you, the voices that could have guided you, the hearts that still love you—they are here, waiting. But not forever. Every moment wasted in hatred, every second surrendered to pride, every heartbeat in the darkness is a heartbeat closer to the inevitable. And when the sun fails to rise for you, when the coffin closes, when the silence swallows all, what will remain? Only the echoes of choices you refused to change, the ghosts of love you could have held, the ruins of what God made and Satan tried to steal.
Tomorrow might come… or it might not. But today… today is still here. And the choice is yours. Choose wisely, before there is no tomorrow at all.?
Do you not see it? The hatred you nurture—it does not just consume what is around you, it devours you first. It clouds your judgment, blinds your soul, and turns the hands that reach for you into shadows you cannot recognize. Every smile you ignore, every apology you refuse, every moment you withhold love—it all strengthens him. Satan thrives in your silence, your pride, your wrath. He dances in the shadows of your anger, in the quiet moments when no one watches, whispering lies, poisoning trust, twisting hearts against each other. He destroys what God carefully built. Bridges of trust, foundations of love, bonds meant to endure—gone. Crumbling in your hands.
Every grievance held like a weapon, every word swallowed like poison, every thought clinging to bitterness—it all accumulates. And for what? A fragile illusion of power? A shield of pride that protects nothing but your own isolation? You forget that tomorrow is not promised. The sun may rise, or it may not. And if it doesn’t… what will you leave behind? Who will mourn you, who will remember you, who will still dare to hope that you might have been different if only you had chosen love instead of hate?
And yet… even now, even after everything, there is still time. Today still stretches before you, fragile, fleeting, heavy with possibility. But it requires humility. It requires courage. It requires you to fight the darkness that has made a home in your soul before it consumes all light within you. Every second you waste in anger, every heartbeat filled with resentment, brings you closer to a cold, empty end, and yet you pretend you have all the time in the world.
Look around you. See what has been broken. See what you have cast aside. Do you feel the weight of it—the emptiness, the silence, the grief of those you have pushed away? Do you feel the shadow that grows in your chest, the shadow that whispers that this pain is all you deserve? That shadow is him. That shadow is Satan, feeding on what was meant to be holy, sacred, and eternal. And he will not stop until you hand over the rest willingly.
Tomorrow is not promised. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone. Death does not wait, fate does not negotiate, and time does not linger. And yet… here we are. Today still exists. Today still begs for redemption. Today still waits for your choice. Will you let it pass in silence, in bitterness, in pride? Or will you remember that what God built cannot be destroyed unless you surrender it willingly?
The hands that could have held you, the voices that could have guided you, the hearts that still love you—they are here, waiting. But not forever. Every moment wasted in hatred, every second surrendered to pride, every heartbeat in the darkness is a heartbeat closer to the inevitable. And when the sun fails to rise for you, when the coffin closes, when the silence swallows all, what will remain? Only the echoes of choices you refused to change, the ghosts of love you could have held, the ruins of what God made and Satan tried to steal.
Tomorrow might come… or it might not. But today… today is still here. And the choice is yours. Choose wisely, before there is no tomorrow at all.?
