I have chosen to NOT personally post my Shiny Object video publicly. Not on Twitter, Facebook, TikTok, just here. Why? Because I am sharing those thoughts for those that KNOW me, and it's an invitation for others who might want to engage and possibly begin to know me. By me personally posting it, my neurodivvergence accepts that the outcome could be quite triggering and in the domain of "church" (congregational, parishioner, attendee, visitor, etc), be labeled as divisive as opposed to "seek scripture and refine discernment". I am hopeful that organically that some of my messages may begin to be shared. My desire is that this is the first step of a safe retreat, in advance of a deeper retreat. I truly believe that many would benefit from that privacy, safety along with reflection/accountability. Devoid of the ideological judgment/condemnation/isolation being fortified in the public sphere. In speaking with one friend this morning I felt it important to dust off one of my previous musings. Maybe someone can create a chord progression (Please, not Hillsong, Elevation, or Bethel Music shenanigans). Psyche at the Pearly Gates I woke up past the thunder, where the clouds are all in white, Knuckles on a pearly door, heart doing laps with fright. Peter flips the ledger, eyebrow doing math, Says, “You sure took the scenic, son—wild and narrow path.” He asks about my bruises, the jokes I used to hide, The days I walked with limping faith, the nights I almost died. I said, “I brought my broken, I brought my borrowed time,” He smiled like he already knew—and rang a little chime. Then Jesus steps from glory, eyes like morning light, Arms stretched wider than my shame, grin crooked, warm, and bright. He says, “You thought you’d earn this?” I whisper, “Not a slice.” He laughs and pulls me closer—“Psyche! I paid the price.” We wander past the questions that used to own my head, All the shiny idols, the lies I almost fed. “Did I fight the good fight? Did I love the least?”